


Black Sails at Dawn

by Lizardbeth



Series: Not All That We Are [4]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Bang Challenge, Canonical Character Death, Cylons, Dream Sex, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Prophetic Visions, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 114,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two fleets have found the Eye of Jupiter, and are now on course for their final confrontation. Yet both sides face division even as the gods demand their sacrifices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A long time ago, I started "Not All That We Are" which was then a pretty short AU fic with the premise of 'what if Sam found out he was a Cylon earlier during the attacks?" This then spawned a huge AU 'verse that basically is a parallel canon to the show, heavy on mythology, destiny, and the gods.
> 
> The beginning section deliberately mirrors the end of the Part III, to help remind readers of where I left off, way back in the day... If you haven't read the previous parts, I **highly encourage** it. This is basically the second half of a novel and you'll miss a lot of what's going on. 
> 
> It's complete and epic, and I'll be posting it as I can. 
> 
> My thanks to Sabaceanbabe who undertook beta of this monster, and to Rayniskies, who made me the beautiful cover page!

 

**Prologue**  


* * *

  
_Before leaving to free the youths of Athens, Theseus arranged with the king a message that could be seen upon their return: white sails meant the quest was a success, and black sails meant the quest failed and all was lost. Theseus left and slayed the minotaur, with the help of the beautiful Ariadne. He brought her home to be his wife, but she perished on the voyage, though some say jealous gods stole her away. Stricken by grief, Theseus left the black sails in place as his ship approached the shore. The king, believing the quest had failed and Theseus was dead, cast himself over the cliffs into the sea._   


* * *

 

Days passed on the baseship, each slipping into the next with little change. Sharon watched Sam direct the baseship's course, listening to a sound only he could hear as his gaze stared blindly. He spoke rarely, and left the command deck only when Thea took his hand and led him away. He always returned though and never slept that Sharon saw.

She worried for him, but Thea was doing what she could, so Sharon worried also for her sisters who seemed to fall deeper into doubt the longer this mania of his continued.

But everything changed as soon as the ship came out of the jump into realspace. Sharon already had a hand in the datastream, seeing the human fleet orbiting a rocky planet. Was it Earth?

A chill went up Sharon's spine when she heard Sam say, "It's here."

Whatever they were chasing was here, at this barren planet that _Galactica_ had already found. Across all those light-years, they had followed a signal only one person could hear. But they'd found it at last.

"This isn't Earth," Natalie said, shaking her head and looking betrayed. "There's nothing but algae here."

"I need to go. Find it." Sam's eyes shut, and Sharon could see the truth of whatever he was feeling in his face. It was real. "I have to go."

For Sam to find it meant they had to get past _Galactica_. "Call a truce with Adama," Sharon said urgently. "We're not here to attack them."

"We don't even know what we're doing here," Natalie objected. "We should jump out."

Sam spoke, "No. It's here." His face held the same distracted, pained cast to it that he'd had for days while the signal had taken over his mind.

"Let him go," Thea pleaded. "I'll go with him, we'll take a Heavy Raider. But we need time to find out why we're here."

"Call for a truce," Sharon repeated, "before he starts lobbing nukes at us. We can't take on _Galactica_ alone."

"And tell him what?" Three demanded. "That our human brought us here to be slaughtered?"

"That's a lie!" Thea objected, incensed. "He brought us here because this is where we're supposed to be."

"He's going to get us all killed," Natalie said.

Sharon was annoyed by the objections when their course of action was so plain to her. "They have people on the surface. Adama will give us a truce to recover them."

Sam turned abruptly and headed for the door, ignoring everyone else. Thea followed, calling out, "Stall for time! Give Sam time to do what he needs to do."

"This is a trap," Three said. "We have to get out of here, before Adama kills us."

"He has yet to fire on us," Simon's voice was an oasis of calm in all the panic. "No doubt he's as confused by our presence as we are."

"Sharon and Thea are right," Caprica urged her sister and D'Anna. "We need to give Sam time. We're here for a reason."

"The reason is because he snapped," Natalie snapped. "And I’m not risking this ship for the whims of a crazy person."

"He's not!" Caprica insisted.

"All of you, shut up," Sharon exclaimed. "We're not leaving." She accessed the communications system and activated the main wireless. Taking a deep breath to try to quell the sudden anxiety -- mostly at taking direct action without consensus support, but then she remembered who she was and what she'd done, and she was ready. "Galactica. This is the baseship, requesting to speak directly to Admiral Adama."

Then, as she waited, she met Caprica's eyes, and Caprica nodded her approval. Natalie's arms were folded, and she looked angry, but she didn't try to stop Sharon.

The response came after a moment, and Sharon recognized Dee's voice with a pang of regret: " _Baseship, you are on a channel to CIC. Admiral Adama is listening_."

Sharon kept one hand in the datastream, but tightened the other to a fist, praying this worked. He might hate her now after what she did, but she thought at least he might listen to her, where he might not listen to any other Cylon. "Admiral, this is Sharon Valerii. Boomer," her old callsign nearly got stuck in her throat. "Please, I know I've given you no reason to trust me, after what I did. I wasn't strong enough then, to resist. You don't know how sorry I am. But, please, listen. We are not here to hurt anyone. We're not here to attack you. We're here because God brought us here. We ask for a truce."

There was a pause and then Adama responded in his gruff voice, " _You've launched a Heavy Raider and a Raider squadron toward the surface. Pull it back or there's no truce_."

She exchanged a glance with Caprica, who shook her head. Sharon licked her lips and said, "But, admiral, that Heavy Raider must land. They're not after any of your people. They're looking for why we were brought here."

" _Pull it back_ ," Adama ordered, and then she heard him command, " _Main batteries target that Heavy Raider_."

Caprica's eyes went wide with horror. "No! Please! Don't shoot!"

Natalie's hand splashed into the datafont and she added, less frantically but still intensely, "We sent you your man. We sent you food. Isn't that enough to prove our intent? That ship means you no harm."

Then Roslin's voice came through, cool and authoritative, " _Let's dispense with the posturing and begging. Your ship is going toward the temple, and you want the Eye of Jupiter, same as we do. You may not have it, no matter how many treats you throw our way_."

The Eye of Jupiter. Sharon knew what that meant. "The Temple of Five? You found the Temple of Five?"

Then D'Anna smirked a little and added, countering Roslin, "Let me make this very clear, Admiral. You destroy that Heavy Raider and we will destroy you."

Sharon glared at her and hissed, "D'Anna, you're not helping." Sharon decided she'd have to be honest or this was all going to go horribly wrong. "Admiral, Sam Anders is on the Heavy Raider. I don't know if he's looking for the Eye of Jupiter or not, but I do know he needs to find what his vision is showing him."

" _Anders is on that Heavy Raider_?" Adama asked, sounding as if he might be willing to bend, after all.

Sharon answered, "Yes, he brought us here, but he's the only one who can find whatever it is that he's seeing. Please. I beg you, for all our sakes."

Adama hesitated for a moment, then ordered his crew, loudly enough she could hear, " _Targeting off. Let it land_."

The signal closed, without Adama confirming the truce, but since _Galactica_ wasn't moving to attack, she figured it was done. Sharon nodded and raised her eyes to the rest of her siblings. "There. Now we stay here, quietly, do nothing, and wait."

"The Temple of Five," Caprica said, shooting a triumphant glance at her sisters. "You see, Natalie? You need more faith. You thought he was mad -- but he really was hearing it. He's looking for the Eye of Jupiter, to lead us forward."

Natalie looked unconvinced, and Sharon was sure she was thinking that hearing the voice of God might confirm insanity, not negate it. Because how could a mortal human, no matter how special, be expected to hear such a thing, and not be overwhelmed?

"What's to stop him from handing the Eye of Jupiter to the Humans, once he finds it?" Three demanded. "You know Thea and Leoben will go along with whatever he wants."

Another Two had come onto the deck to reform the consensus now that his brother had gone with Sam, and he said quietly, "As they should. He'll do what he has to do. Remember, he told us that Earth is not only for us; it's for the humans, too."

"Not if we get there first." Three pulled her hand from the datastream and folded her arms.

Leoben returned, his voice deep with disapproval, "And that attitude is why the Eye will go to the humans. And why we spent two weeks lost, so the Colonials found the Temple first."

"Their headstart hasn't seemed to help them all that much, has it?" Three smirked at him, unimpressed with his argument.

"He's not going to give it to them," Caprica protested. "He said his place was among us; he'll return to us."

"If he can," Three said, and nodded thoughtfully. "What if the humans try to take both? I'm sure that's why Adama let him land-- let Sam find the Eye and then snatch both away from us. We should make arrangements to make sure they don't interfere."

Sharon didn't get a chance to ask what arrangements, because then she saw in the datastream that the _Galactica_ 's Vipers were going after the Raiders. "Oh God, no-- What are they doing?" Her stomach was tight as she watched the Vipers launch an attack against the Heavy Raider, feeling confused and upset. Had Adama changed his mind? Was he trying to kill Sam? Did he not believe her?

"So much for the truce," Caprica spat. "And after we told them-- "

"Arm the missiles," Natalie ordered. "If they kill that Heavy Raider -- "

"No!" Four called suddenly from his end of the datafont. "They're not attacking the Heavy Raider. Look!"

He was right, she realized. The Vipers seemed to be targeting the Raiders only, and leaving the Heavy Raider alone.

"They killed all our Raiders," Natalie said. "That's no truce."

"The Heavy Raider is continuing onward," Four reported.

The Heavy Raider was down moments later, diving to the ground like a sea bird suddenly stooping to the sea to catch a fish.

"Did they hit it?" Caprica asked. "I didn't see anyone fire at it."

"No, someone in the cockpit crashed it," Sharon didn't have to say who had made it fall from the sky.

Caprica's eyes met hers, through the projected data screens between them. "What the hell was he doing? They could've been killed!"

Then, new, even more unwelcome news, Natalie reported, "Multiple sensor contacts!"

They all shifted their attention to the new arrivals, anxious. Sharon wanted to laugh at her moment's concern, because who else could it be? It wasn't as if there could really be another fleet of human ships wandering out there, and they had already seen the civilian ships leave. But then, the impulse to laugh died away as the three new baseships flashed into range, already armed and ready for conflict.

 _Galactica_ 's orientation changed against this new threat and the sensors spotted their weapons going hot. They also recalled the Vipers that had trailed after the Heavy Raider.

Sharon signaled the baseships. "We are in a state of truce with _Galactica_. You must hold back."

A One appeared in the projection, looking as if he was standing before them. "Truce?" he questioned as if they'd all gone insane. "Why in the hells do we have a truce with _Galactica_?"

Caprica answered, "A Heavy Raider with Anders, Thea, and a Two has gone down to the surface. If we get in a battle, _Galactica's_ people will shoot them, too."

"And this is a problem, because...?" he demanded, and Sharon wanted to punch him. She hadn't forgotten his lies and manipulation, and apparently he still thought his voice should count for more.

"The Eye of Jupiter is down there somewhere," Three said. "Anders is looking for it."

"Oh, the next step on your mystical journey to Earth," he said with a mocking smirk. "Haven't you all figured out yet that he's not a prophet or oracle, he's just using your simple-minded faith to get what he wants? He wanted to escape you, and you all bought into his act."

"You're wrong," Caprica retorted. "It's not an act. You didn't see him."

"Oh, I've had some updates," One said and glanced at the Five at the forward datafont. Sharon glared at him-- he'd been passing information to the Ones this whole time? Son of a bitch.

Five straightened and returned their glares with a curled lip. "He's a human. And he's corrupted you all. We're better off without him."

"He's an oracle," Caprica insisted. "And he led us here."

One snorted with disdain and scoffed, "The humans found it. It obviously didn't take "god" or an oracle to find it. And it's sort of curious that he found it so slowly the humans have been here for weeks. Almost as if he was delaying reaching here, so they'd have time to harvest their food." And damn him to hell, Sharon saw the doubt flicker across D'Anna and her own sister's face. One added, "But all we have to do to undo your mistake is use our weapons superiority and remove _Galactica_ right now--"

"No!" Caprica said, and Natalie echoed it, "No. Thea and the baby are on the surface. If we act against _Galactica_ , she'll die. We need to wait and recover her and Sam as soon as he's done. We won't be able to do that if there's a battle here."

Sharon and the Fours and Threes all nodded, united again against that threat.

"Oh yes, the "miracle child"," One sneered. "But can I ask how you expect to recover them? Their Heavy Raider won't fly again."

" _Galactica_ will recover their personnel, leave, and then we can get ours," Sharon answered.

"So naïve," he shook his head at her. "The humans on the surface will kill them."

"They won't. I know them, and they won't do it," Sharon answered, hoping it was true. But surely the Colonials would have to be at least intrigued by another Cylon pregnancy? And that was assuming Thea was dumb enough to get caught, which considering how many Centurions were in that Heavy Raider was doubtful.

He glanced at her and made a face. "We should've boxed you on Caprica."

"Frak off," she shot back. "You're the one who's a liar and a traitor to the Cylon. We should box your whole line for lying to the consensus."

"Sharon, we're not going to do that," D'Anna said. She folded her arms. "The consensus has already spoken. We will wait and keep the truce until Sam finds the Eye of Jupiter. And then... we'll re-evaluate the situation."

There were no voices of dissent, even from Cavil, who nodded and closed the channel so he disappeared from the projection.

Caprica murmured in Sharon's ear, "God, do I hate him."

Sharon nodded her agreement, but saw that at least the other three baseships were staying at the edge of weapons range. The tense stand off continued for some time until they received a signal from _Galactica_.

" _There are Centurions firing on our people on the surface_ ," Adama growled. " _That is not a truce_."

"You killed our Raiders first," Natalie shot back.

D'anna lifted her free hand to quiet her and said to Adama, "We informed you of our intent. If you move your people out of the way, no one will get hurt."

" _Pull them back_ ," he ordered. " _Or I'll nuke the whole planet. And nobody gets the Eye_."

Sharon felt queasy at the threat. He'd do it too, if he felt he had no choice.

But D'Anna was less worried. "You're bluffing. You need the path to Earth more than we do. We can find it on our own. After all, we have unlimited time. You... do not."

Caprica shot a mutely shocked glance at D'Anna, who raised a hand to get her to stay quiet.

D'Anna continued, her tone hardening with warning, "But let's be realistic, Admiral -- you know if you nuke the planet, not only do you lose the Eye, and your people, and the path to Earth, you'll probably lose your ship, because I have four baseships now. We're being very patient while your people block our oracle from finding what God sent him to find, but do not take our patience for desperation. We don't need him as much as you do. If you want to invoke the wrath of your gods for killing one to whom they have granted their power, be my guest. Baseship out."

She pulled her hand from the datastream, looking pleased with herself. Sharon was far less happy with the threat, and very nervous by the report that Centurions were attacking the humans on the planet, since that meant the humans were shooting back.

"What are you doing?" Caprica demanded. "Saying they don't mean anything to us? That it's okay if he nukes my sister and the baby? That we don't need the Eye or Sam to find Earth? Of course we do."

"But do we?" D'Anna returned. "As One pointed out, the humans managed to find this place on their own. We know we're on the right path; we can find the next step ourselves."

"We would never have reached this place on our own, and we have no idea where to go next without something or someone to tell us!" Caprica retorted, folding her arms and glaring at D'Anna.

"And if my sisters hadn't forced Sam into giving us the path, I doubt we would've gotten this far." D'Anna calmed herself, forcing a small smile. "If God wishes us to continue, we will be shown the way. You should have more faith, sister."

"I don't lack for faith," Caprica returned stiffly. "But I doubt God will be overly generous with miracles if we carelessly lose the ones He gave us already."

Four interjected, "It would seem the situation is an impasse for both sides."

Natalie let out an irritated huff of breath. "Why is it a stalemate at all? A full Centurion squadron should be enough to slaughter that small group of humans and get into the Temple."

"Orders," Sharon answered. "Sam wouldn't want the Centurions to kill his own people - he just wants them to move out of the way. And it looks like the admiral figured that out, too," she added, with relief, noticing that the _Galactica_ weapons batteries were still aimed at the baseships, not the surface. "He's letting the stalemate continue, too."

"This isn't going to work," Natalie observed tensely. "This can't last."

It didn't, but not for the reason any of them had expected.

Twenty minutes later, the Two reported with a frown, "The Hybrid is reporting strange radiological emissions from the local star."

"What? What does that mean?" Three asked.

He shook his head, hand in the datastream for a few minutes. "Its colors are... shifting. Something's happening."

Sharon shifted her own awareness to the data on the star. It really had changed, getting a strange corona around it.

"It's shrinking in diameter," Five added in astonishment. "It's smaller, but the core temperature is increasing. I think it's ... going nova."

"Right now?" Caprica stared at him. "It's going to go nova with us right here? That's impossible."

Three smiled. "It's God, Caprica. Don't you see? We have our sign."

'Yeah, it's a sign to get the hell away from here, right now," Five said. "When this star goes, this planet's going to fry."

"Launch a Heavy Raider, rescue our people," Caprica ordered.

" _Galactica's_ launched two Raptors as well," Natalie said.

"We don't have time," Five insisted. "We need to get away from here. That star can explode any second."

Not surprisingly, One reappeared in the projection and said cheerfully, "Time to go! You have noticed the rather large stellar body about to go boom, right?"

"We can't leave them here," Caprica objected. "There's a Heavy Raider on the way to -- "

"There's a star about to shower this entire solar system with intense radiation, and a shock wave that'll likely obliterate this planet. Consensus here has already agreed to leave," he told her with a half-smirk.

"Then you go," Sharon said. "This baseship will stay and rescue our people."

"You mean rescue the human and the Six with the child," Cavil said, "because our people will resurrect just fine."

"Yes, we have to save the child," Natalie told him with narrowed eyes.

But they all saw that it was probably too late: the Vipers around _Galactica_ darted down and destroyed the Heavy Raider in flight.

Sharon lifted her eyes and met Caprica's, which were dark with worry and fear. "Adama will rescue them," Sharon reassured her, praying it was true. "They won't kill Thea when they see she's pregnant. They'll realize she's a miracle, just like Hera. Sam will be with her. It'll be okay."

"See?" D'Anna told her, with a smug, bright expression of understanding. "Didn't I tell you that God would give us the path? It's time to go, my brothers and sisters. We don't need this place anymore."

Everyone stared at her in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you see? The star is the Eye of Jupiter. And it's pointing to that stellar remnant - another nova from three thousand years ago, when the Thirteenth Tribe stopped here to pray for a sign," D'Anna explained, as if she had no doubts at all. "We need to go. Let the humans rescue their people, or not, it doesn't matter. We have the path. Ready for jump."

The Raptors headed for the surface, while the sun continued to heat up, preparing for its death.

Sharon watched both anxiously, praying the Raptors would get back to Galacica in time for it to jump clear, and praying Sam and Thea would be okay, then the baseship jumped and left them behind.

 

* * *

Ellen heard the step in the doorway and waited with outward patience for John to come in and tell her the news.

"Too bad you missed all the excitement at that Temple you named after yourselves."

Ellen looked up at John. "What? 'After ourselves'?" She frowned, wondering what he was complaining about now. "You mean the Temple of Five? It wasn't our choice to name it that. Pythia gave it that name long before we returned. It was called the Temple of Hopes in our history, because our ancestors stopped there to pray for guidance."

"But you did stop here on the way back." She nodded, but he already knew that. "How did you do it?" he demanded curiously. "Was it some sort of device? How did you know when to make the star explode?"

"What are you talking about? The star exploded? That's impossible. That was a yellow star. It should have a billion years worth of hydrogen--"

"It went boom." He gestured expansively then he leaned closer to her and murmured, "And Sam was on the surface, heading for the Temple."

She jerked her head up in alarm and glanced at the doorway, hoping and yet dreading to see him. Was he here now? Was he a prisoner, too?

John smiled, pleased to have gotten to her. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. He didn't arrive here, so he must be back on the human ship. But he wouldn't have been good company, anyway, since he's gone completely insane."

This wasn't the first time John had taken his perverse pleasure in telling her about Sam's troubles. "He's what you made him. You took away his true memories," she said. "But the mental block started to crack when you were torturing him. Now he senses there's something missing, but he can't access the memories. So of course, he's going a little mad."

John raised his eyebrows. "A little? According to the Fives, dear father Sam was hearing strange music leading him to the Temple. He refused to eat or sleep. He really believes that God is talking to him."

"You hurt him and locked him up alone for months. What did you expect?" she demanded, bitterness welling up. "You wanted to break him."

"I didn't expect it to work so easily," John replied. "In hindsight, letting the Threes use the neural amplifier was a mistake. It scrambled his brain and strengthened his delusion."

She felt a little ill, imagining how the Three had used it on him. If it hadn't been connected to the datastream, it could only have been a torture device, with the brain interpreting the neural signals as pain. She feared John was right. She remembered the angel on Earth, and Sam had seen one too, so she didn't doubt that God existed or that there were messengers. But everything she'd heard about Sam since New Caprica had nothing to do with the Sam she remembered -- her friend certainly hadn't believed he could see the future or was an oracle of God. More distressingly, he seemed to be getting worse from what she'd been told. Her fingers twisted in her lap with worry for him. Resurrection and restoring his memories would help, but if he was truly broken and delusional there was nothing they could do.

John mused aloud, in startling echo of her thoughts, "Maybe it would be better to have him killed and get him out of his misery..."

She straightened in alarm. "No!" Even if he was gone, better to be gone out there, than trapped in here with John. She loved Sam far too much to wish him here with her, even if she wanted other company.

Then John gave a sigh. "Sadly he's with the humans and out of our reach, now. But the good thing about his insanity is he's given me back the consensus, now that they see what a mistake it was to follow him. I have to wonder if there's some unconscious programming in them to do what "dad" tells them to do -- because really, I have no other explanation for their behavior the last few months."

"There's a part of us in all of you," she said, softly, knowing it wasn't going to work with John, but needing to try. "Your brothers and sisters can feel he loves them and he wants to help them, even if you tried to make him their enemy."

He chuckled. "Well, he certainly loved one of them quite a lot. Got her pregnant and everything. You told me that was impossible," he accused her.

"No, what I said was that it's only possible between individuals." She thought of the experiments that Barolay had told her about on Caprica -- baby farms trying to breed Cylons on humans with no understanding that their actions were preventing the thing they wanted. "And Tory didn't specifically block our DNA because the idea of getting a child on one of our children was unthinkable to us." She smiled thinly, recalling what John had made her do when she hadn't known the truth. He stared back, unrepentant. She went on, "But Sam doesn't remember she's his creation. He treats her as he would any other woman who saved him from the hell you put him in. In return, he's inspired her into enough emotional maturity that she became fertile, and now they're going to have a child. You reap what you sow, John."

He snorted. "Another "miracle baby". We're well rid of her, too, acting as a focus for religious hysteria in the Sixes, especially. Let the humans deal with it."

Ellen was glad that the Six and the baby had survived, but she wasn't sure it was a good thing they were going to be on the Galactica. She knew Bill, and Roslin and Saul -- oh especially Saul -- were going to be suspicious and hostile. But so long as they didn't kill her, and hopefully being Sam's child they wouldn't, that was the best she could hope for. There was nothing she could do about it.

She asked calmly, "So where are we going now?"

"Oh, you'll like this. The Threes apparently figured out that the nebula is the next marker on the path and we're going that way. I've tasked the Colony to move near to Earth, in case Sam sends the humans there, and a few more ships to meet us at the nebula. By then, the baby will be born and --" He smiled at her, with an edge to his smile that she recognized with a chill, "I'll bring it to see you, so you can coo over it. It'll be your grandkid, in a sense. Very precious I'm sure, especially to Sam."

Her breath threatened to choke in her throat, and the bloodied remains of Daniel flashed through her mind as a reminder of what John had done the last time he'd been jealous about one of the Five's offspring. "And then you'll kill her like you killed Galen's son?" she demanded.

"I didn't kill Galen's son," he retorted smugly.

"At your order, then," she corrected in disgust.

"Oh, you're talking about the baby at New Caprica!" he said in feigned surprise, and leaned nearer, smiling as if he was about to give her good gossip. "That baby was never Galen's. I tested it; it was all human. So. No need to get upset, Mother. It wasn't even a hybrid." He shrugged with a casual disregard for the innocent life he'd taken.

Sam and Thea's child would be a pure Cylon child, but that wouldn't spare her his jealousy either. She could only hope that Sam and the others would keep her away from him. She asked John calmly, "So what are you going to do about the humans?"

"It's been fun, but I think it's time we stomp out the human roaches once and for all, don't you? It's tempting to wait until they get to that burnt out cinder they're so desperate to find, just for the laugh, but I'm sure the Sixes and Eights'll whine about exterminating them, so I have to do it while the Threes are still high on their messianic quest." He rolled his eyes. "I miss the good old days when everybody was excited to get with the program and kill all the frakking humans."

He paused and when she said nothing, he taunted, "Nothing to say? Not going to plead for them? Tell me how wrong and horrible I am? How disappointed you are?"

She shook her head sadly. "You haven't learned anything, have you, John? If God had wanted the Colonials all dead, he wouldn't have sent the five of us two thousand light-years to save them."

John snorted. "I'm sure "god" thought you did a great job with that."

She couldn't disagree -- John was her failure. And she would stay here until she could correct her mistake by teaching him there was another way.

 

* * *

They met in the Hybrid's chamber, about the only place they could be sure of not being disturbed or overheard.

Sharon and Caprica had waited for others to come to them. The Two had been the first. Natalie approached Caprica, still uncertain about Sam but very certain in the path of individuality. The final surprise was one of the Fours coming up to Sharon to express his own faith, even in the face of many of his brothers' doubt. So the five of them gathered in the Hybrid's chamber, sitting in a circle by the wall, with the Hybrid's drone in the background of their conversation.

"If we're not careful, they're going to box us as defective," Simon said.

"It's not defective to make your own decisions," Natalie snapped.

He smiled faintly. "I know that. But I think many in our own models would disagree."

Sharon grumbled in disgust, thinking of her sister Eights. She could hold most of them by sheer force of will, but they didn't like conflict or being against the prevailing consensus. "I'll break the Eights, if they won't all come," she vowed.

"If you let them falter, then we lose the consensus," Leoben reminded her. "Or the Fours. The Sixes are already broken."

Sharon noticed sourly that he didn't point out that the Twos were the only ones united in their continuing support for the journey to Earth, becoming individuals, and Sam as their oracle.

"They weren't here," Caprica sighed. "They don't understand."

"The Ones never will," Natalie added. "And the Fives do nothing but whatever the Ones say."

"The Threes are the fulcrum," Simon said, "They think we can get to Earth without Sam. That we don't need him."

Natalie chuckled humorlessly. "Mad or not, he or the child are our only way to Earth. Anyone can see that. But the Ones don't want us to get to Earth. Or be people at all."

"And if the others don't listen?" Sharon asked. "What are we going to do? If they all turn against us, what can we do? There's just us."

For a moment there was silence, as they all looked at each other, feeling very alone.

"We need help," Caprica suggested. "Maybe we need to surrender to the Humans? Sam said Earth is for all of us, if we go to them, they can help us..."

None of them seemed very excited about the possibility. Sharon knew her sister was there and had been given a place on the ship, but she doubted a group of Cylons would be as well-treated. And if the Humans killed them all, they'd end up either dead for good or probably boxed, since she doubted the rest of the consensus would let them resurrect, after being traitors. It wasn't an option, at least not yet. "We need to handle our own problem," Sharon said. "If we run away, the others will screw it up worse, like they did showing up at the algae planet."

"There's one more thing we could try. We need numbers," Natalie suggested hesitantly. "If we can't depend on them to change of their own will, maybe we need to force it." Leoben's gaze cut to her, shocked, already knowing what she was going to say.

Sharon didn't though, and waited until Natalie said it, "We could remove the telencephalic inhibitor from the Centurions."

Simon stared at her. "I didn't realize Anders' insanity was communicable."

But Sharon nodded, thinking it through. "We want choice, right? We know what the Raider did when it had a choice -- it saved Sam. We know the Centurions are intelligent, even if they're not as evolved as we are. Can we demand choice for ourselves and still keep them enslaved to our will?"

Caprica and Leoben nodded in agreement, but Simon, as ever, was more attuned to the practicalities.

"And what's to prevent them from killing all of us?" Simon demanded. "We know what they did to the Humans fifty years ago."

"Yes. We do," Natalie agreed, now calm and fearless that she'd decided what they had to do. "Which is why we should do the right thing."

"I'm not saying we shouldn't," Simon protested. "But will they understand that we're trying to help? Will they understand that the humans aren't their enemy anymore? Or will they try to kill everyone out of vengeance?"

"That's why we should only take the risk when we need to," Caprica suggested. "Once it starts, there'll be no stopping it."

"Yes. Are we agreed?" Natalie asked and held out her hand to the middle of their small circle.

Caprica was the first to put her hand on top of Natalie's. "Agreed."

Sharon put her hand on top and squeezed both beneath hers. "Agreed."

Simon took a moment but then nodded. His big hand rested atop theirs. "Agreed."

Leoben was last and he smiled faintly. "So say we all."

In the silence that followed, Sharon heard the Hybrid's constant murmur falter as well, and then the Hybrid declared:

"The board is set; the players move the pieces. A shadow swallows the children in the green field. Time is the circle that curves back on itself, repeating, repeating, repeating. End of line. Dead stars. Dead worlds. Love births fire and the hope of new buds in the garden."

* * *

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

  
  
  
Kara knew inside the dream that she was dreaming. She even remembered the place-- it was that strangely real plush concert hall where she'd been chasing Hera around, months ago. But despite knowing it was a dream, she didn't wake up.  
  
Her feet were bare on the soft carpet with its tiny circle pattern as she headed down the empty corridor toward the tall wooden doors. She pulled on the handles, but they might as well have been concrete because they didn't budge.  
  
"It's not time yet," Sam's voice murmured behind her. She turned to see "Sam" there. He was wearing Sam's C-Bucs home court uniform, and the jersey was glossy and black, like new. The last time she'd seen it in the real world, Sam had cut off the frayed sleeves and the thing had faded to dull gray.  
  
It pissed her off. "You're not Sam. You don't get to wear his stuff. It's not yours."  
  
He smiled faintly and lifted his brows in amusement. "You want me to change? You seemed more comfortable with a familiar face."  
  
"I thought you were him; but you're not." She shuddered. "You ... you pretended you were him. We..." she remembered all those dreams and things she'd done in the dreams, and she insisted, "It wasn't real."  
  
His smile widened. "Reality is such a limiting concept," he chided. "And you were connected by more than you believe. But... very well, if you insist."  
  
Then he disappeared. She stepped forward, hand extended, as if she could feel him and he'd merely turned invisible. But there was nothing there.  
  
"Here," another voice said behind her, and she whirled to see Leoben.  
  
Or, she supposed, looking at him, no more Leoben than the previous face had truly been Sam. This one seemed more peaceful... knowledgeable in his deep eyes. He was also a better dresser than the Leoben she'd met, wearing dress pants and a sportcoat, as if he'd just come from a university lecture, not a thrift store.  
  
"Better?" he asked, gesturing to himself. "I wore this face a long time ago," he mused.  
  
She frowned. "You look like Leoben."  
  
His smile widened enigmatically. "I do. Curious, isn't it?"  
  
That was no kind of answer, and she knew she wasn't getting one out of him either. She folded her arms. "What do you want?"  
  
He hesitated, and the amusement dropped away from his face. "Time is growing short, Kara. Events are in motion that will determine the fate of... everyone. You need to be ready."  
  
"Ready for what? Because I have a destiny? More of that bullshit?" she challenged. "No double talk, no hints -- tell me what this is about."  
  
"Destiny doesn't mean you don't have a choice," he explained slowly. "It means you have a path. But you still must choose to walk it. Your mother -- "  
  
"Don't you talk about her. She believed it," Kara snapped. "She told me that again and again. It was her **excuse**."  
  
"It was her reason. She wasn't wrong, Kara. You do have a destiny. You always have. But she's a good example of why knowing too much is dangerous. She taught you the wrong lessons. You've begun to unlearn them, but --" His hand fell lightly on her shoulder, but she jerked away.  
  
She stared at the wooden doors. "If you're not going to say anything useful, I'm going to wake up now."  
  
He hesitated. "I need your help," he admitted eventually.  
  
That was a surprise. She turned partway back around to see he was watching her. "Oh?"  
  
"Sam needs to fly again. William refuses to hear me, but he'll listen to you."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, remembering the last time she'd seen this face and what he'd told her in the brig. "Why? Why does Sam have to fly again?"  
  
"Because it's his path. But until it opens again, he can't choose to walk it."  
  
"That's not good enough," she retorted. "See, the thing is, I know he's seen something awful. So telling me it's his **destiny** ," she snarled, starting to really hate the word, "just makes me want to say no."  
  
False Leoben didn't exactly refute the implication, challenging instead, "Would you clip a bird's wings to keep it safe, Kara? Would you be like the Cylons and keep Sam in a cage? His soul is akin to yours and it suffers in confinement. He will never see his path locked inside the dead skin of this ship, with a metal embrace tethering him to skin and bone and flesh. And neither will you." His eyes met hers, kind but rueful, and he sighed softly, "Death is the birthright of the living. It is not the end; it's only a gateway to the other side. You should have no fear of it."  
  
"But --"  
  
His finger went across her lips, silencing her. "There is little time, and no destiny is fixed. We must act to preserve the ones who live and restore what should be, before it's too late."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The Admiral was in his quarters after she got off duty, when she went to see him.  
  
"Starbuck."  
  
"Sir," she greeted and tucked her hands behind her. "I won't take up much of your time, but I have a request. I'd like you to consider restoring Lieutenant Anders to flight status."  
  
Surprised, he glanced up, the lights glinting in his glasses, then he waved to the chair opposite his small table. "Sit down. Why would you ask that?"  
  
Of course, the real answer was that a being in her dreams told her to, but luckily she had some true reasons she could give. She seated herself and answered, "Because he's still one of our better pilots, sir. He didn't get a lot of experience before he was taken, but he has a lot of talent. With Kat's death, we need all of the good pilots we can get. And it makes more sense to use his skill than forcing him to sit around and do nothing."  
  
He didn't answer right away, sipping his drink from the mug. "I'm concerned he might be too sympathetic to the enemy."  
  
She shook her head. "No, sir, I don't think so. Of course he likes the two who came with him, but if the others attack, he'll defend us. I saw what he was willing to do -- how fiercely he tried to protect his people on Caprica. I can only imagine what he'll do to protect his own kid."  
  
He nodded, but still didn't seem particularly convinced. "But will he obey orders? He seems sure he's the tool of some higher authority, and a man who believes he can do whatever he wants is a poor soldier."  
  
She leaned forward. "Admiral, he's not much of a soldier; he never has been. That's not going to change. But he's a team player, and if we get him back on the team, he'll play for us." She shrugged "I can't say he won't get a vision that'll lead him into something crazy, but maybe that's what we need. In the meantime, I'd like him to fly on my wing."  
  
"Even after what he did?" Adama asked, gaze intent on her.  
  
She returned his look steadily and admitted, "Rescuing him didn't happen like I expected, or how I wanted. But I still think we need him in flight."  
  
He nodded slowly. "If you're sure this is what you want, Starbuck."  
  
"I am, Admiral."  
  
"Very well. Request granted. We'll see how he does."  
  
She thanked him and when she was dismissed, went to find Sam to tell him the good news.  
  
She checked the brig, and Sam was nowhere to be found. The guards said Thea was asleep, and Sam had taken the baby. Thinking he might be at the pyramid court to get an early start on the baby's skills, she went there. She found Hillard instead. The former C-Bucs player was throwing at the backstop on his own, trying to work out the stiffness from his previous injury. "Hey, you seen Sam?" she asked.  
  
"Thrace," he greeted and hurled the ball at her. She caught it. "Yeah, he's sacked out in our bunkroom."  
  
"Good, thanks." She threw the ball into the goal, smirking when it went in. "I'll have to kick your ass another time." But on the way to the door, she turned back. "You let him stay with you? You got shot by toasters on that planet because of him."  
  
"It should've killed me," Hillard told her. "Toasters could've killed us all. But they didn't because he told them not to."  
  
"And that doesn't freak you the hell out?"  
  
"Nah. I'm not surprised he got a couple of them on his side." Hillard shrugged and bent to retrieve the ball from the catcher. "I've known T a long damn time. He's hooked into something I don't get, but I trust him with my life. If he says she's okay, that she helped him, then she did. I'm just frakking glad he's alive. And if he had to spawn with one of 'em - better they're here and not there, right?" Then he seemed to realize what he was saying and who he was saying it to, and shifted in discomfort, looking down at the ball in his hands. "But, y'know, I'm sorry it didn't work out with you two. Cylons frakked that up pretty good."  
  
"Yeah, they sure did," she agreed heavily, and left.  
  
Now that Barolay was a pilot, there were only a few of the old Caprica resistance left, and they'd taken over a small storeroom near the starboard pod. She knocked on the hatch and went in.  
  
It was empty, except for Sam. He was seated on a bedroll, slumping against the wall as if he'd been dozing. He had a small blanket-wrapped bundle on his chest, and his hand looked especially large resting on it.  
  
His eyes were open though, and he looked tense until he saw who it was. Then he straightened, looking more surprised. "Kara?"  
  
"So this is where you sleep?" she asked, coming inside, looking around. There were some other blankets on the floor, and a few belongings she recognized from his stuff before he'd gone MIA. He must have recovered some of it. "And that must be Iris."  
  
His expression softened as he glanced down, finger stroking the top of the head peeking above the blanket. "She's sleeping. Thea was exhausted, so I said I'd watch her for a while." He gave a little shrug. "Not like I've got much else to do."  
  
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually." She came a little closer. "I spoke to the admiral. He said he's willing to restore your flight status. You can fly again."  
  
His finger froze in its soft stroking of the baby's head and his expression went utterly still and unreadable. "Oh."  
  
She regarded him incredulously. "That's it? Your enthusiasm is overwhelming me here, Sam. Don't you want to? Or -- " She remembered what Adama had said and wondered if he was more right than she had believed. She moved closer, trying to step between the bedrolls. "Do you not want to fight Cylons anymore?"  
  
That got his attention. "No. That's not it. If they attack us, I'll defend Iris. No matter who it is," he declared. Now that she was closer, she saw the sidearm hidden in the blanket beside him, where his left hand had been resting when she came in. He probably shouldn't have one, but after what had happened to Boomer and Hera, she couldn't blame him for worrying.  
  
"Then what?" she demanded. "I thought you'd jump at the chance."  
  
"It's -- " he glanced down to Iris again and took a moment to answer. "It's a surprise, that's all."  
  
But that was plainly a lie, and she began to get a very cold feeling in her abdomen. "Sam... have you seen something happen in a Viper?"  
  
There was no question the answer was yes, as he swallowed and his jaw tightened. He admitted, after a moment, "When I was in the Temple, I saw.... a lot of things."  
  
"What did you see?" she asked. "Did you see someone die?" Then the truth hit her like a slap in the face and she took another convulsive step forward. "Oh gods, it's you, isn't it? That bastard, and his frakking 'keeping you in a cage'. He knew all along!" she spat furiously.  
  
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "What are you talking about?" he asked, with apparently honest confusion.  
  
She took a deep breath, calming down. But she certainly wasn't going to tell him about the apparition in her dreams who had first taken Sam's own face and now was taking Leoben's - that sounded crazy even in her own head. "Leoben told me.. . you saw your own death," she explained.  
  
"Leoben told you I -- How does he know about--? Oh, that." He seemed oddly relieved, as if he'd expected something else. The baby kicked, shifting in her sleep, managing to get one tiny foot free of the blanket. Sam waited until she was still again and covered the foot up, before he answered, "I -- I told him I had a vision of dying, but it happened a long time ago, when the Temple was built. I lived a memory of someone getting killed. Murdered. It felt like it was happening to me."  
  
He rubbed his cheek on Iris' head, closing his eyes, as if trying to erase the images from his mind.  
  
"Oh gods, that's awful." But it was also a relief to find out her suspicion wasn't true, after all. "At least it's not your future. So, are you gonna take up the offer and come back to piloting?"  
  
He moved Iris to lay on his lap, so he could straighten his back, stretching as if he'd been slouching against the wall for too long. That gave Kara her first view of the baby's face. She was still tiny and sort of squashed-looking, with a fuzz of light hair and pale skin. But Sam saw her as beautiful -- he looked down at her with a gentle smile and brushed her cheek tenderly. Her head turned, reflexively seeking the touch, and he gave her the tip of his little finger to suck on.  
  
"I'll come back," he answered, quietly. "I have to. She's a miracle. And I have to do everything I can to protect her and make things right for her."  
  
Watching him, she remembered her own father, and how she'd felt loved when they'd sat side-by-side on the piano bench while he taught her to play. But he'd abandoned her to a mother who didn't love her. After, she'd dreamed that he'd come back for her and take her away, until she realized he was never coming back. She'd tried to shove the memories away, into a box to forget about them, but now, watching Sam, she couldn't help remembering the times her father had hugged her and read her bedtime stories. He'd loved her, but not enough to stay.  
  
Something glinted in the light, and she realized it was her tag hanging at Sam's chest. He was still wearing it, even though Iris was right there. She remembered what Leoben had said -- _"if you asked, he would cut them all for you_." But she didn't want to ask him to cut his ties to his family; she didn't want to be the reason another father abandoned his daughter.  
  
Feeling for the chain around her own neck, she lifted it off. "Then, if you're joining up again, you need your tags back." He glanced up, lips parting in shock. He looked as if she'd kicked him in the chest. She went on, determined to get through this. "I've been keeping them for you, since you sent that one with Bulldog to me. I didn't want to give them back," she admitted, but then looked at Iris. "But I guess I should."  
  
Sam didn't move to take his back, instead reaching up to clasp the tag still on his neck. His gaze went distant, staring into the past. "This got me through those weeks in that box. When Cavil took it from me, I ... I couldn't hold on. I started to hallucinate, living on imaginary boats that felt more real than where I was. I saw you, even though you weren't there." She listened to him, horrified, but for the first time understanding the true depth of his captivity and why he'd latched onto Thea afterward.  
  
He continued, after a moment, "When I finally got the tags back, and I sent mine with Bulldog, this was the only thing I had left from before. I knew I'd have to give it up, and on that day the old Sam Anders would... be gone."  
  
He swallowed but lifted her tag from around his neck and held it out. She hesitated, feeling this was wrong -- this wasn't how things were supposed to be. She still loved him, and she could see how much he still loved her. She remembered her dreams of him, and the implicit promise in them that they would be together again.  
  
But there was a tiny baby between them, and she wasn't going away. The baby's mother wasn't going away, no matter how much Kara might wish it. And Kara refused to be the one to destroy that family, not when she knew exactly how much it hurt to be the child whose father walked away.  
  
Their fingers met, around the tags, and Sam tightened his grip, keeping her there. "Kara, I --"  
  
She could see the words he was going to say shining in his eyes, and she shook her head, biting her lip, to make him shut up. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't say it."  
  
She pulled her tag free from his fingers, left the chain with his two on the blanket and got to her feet. Without looking at him, she said, "Pilot briefing at 0800 tomorrow. Be there, Oracle."  
  
He didn't speak as she left, letting her go.  
  


* * *

  
tbc...  
  



	3. Chapter 3

  
  
Kara went up to the podium, ready for the briefing, and her eyes went to Sam. He was back in Colonial Fleet tanks, with his own dog tags again. He was sitting in his old seat, with Duck to one side and Barolay to the other, and for a moment it was as if no time had passed since that year they'd been rattling around in this tin can.  
  
"Attention on deck!" Hotdog called out, and she nodded to him before addressing the group.  
  
"Morning. I'm sure you've all noticed we've got Oracle back with us today."  
  
Duck and Barolay and some others let out cheers and catcalls. Sam raised a hand high in response, waving it around.  
  
She continued, teasing, "So we'll have to see if he can still fly after lounging around in a Cylon spa for almost a year."  
  
Barolay snickered and bumped Sam, teasing, "Yeah, you and I haven't flown against each other yet. Bet you'll be eating my exhaust."  
  
"After you crash and burn, babe," he retorted.  
  
"What about the toaster he knocked up?" Pike demanded. "I hear she's on the ship."  
  
Kara was the only one who saw Sam's jaw tighten and eyes go cold and flat, but Barolay put a hand on his forearm to keep him in his chair.  
  
Ordinarily she'd say Sam was too smart to let Pike's loud mouth provoke him, but then again, he'd kept a sidearm with him while he was tending the baby, so he was already feeling defensive. Kara decided she'd better get in between before they got in a fight. "She is," Kara answered calmly. "She's in the brig, as she's been since she and the other one, a Leoben model, helped Sam escape."  
  
"Her name is Thea," Sam added, quietly and without looking at anyone, but his voice carried to the back of the room. "And my daughter's name is Iris. Thea and Leoben saved my life. They followed me; they came here because of me. I would hope, knowing how much they helped me, that all of you would help me protect them."  
  
A brief silence fell, and the only objection was some impatient rustling. But no one was brave or stupid enough to say no. Duck said aloud, "Of course, Oracle. We're family."  
  
Kara looked at the gathered pilots and her fingers tightened on the edge of the podium, hoping that bringing Sam back wasn't going to put the team under too much pressure. Maybe one Cylon spouse and one hybrid baby were all that some people were inclined to accept.  
  
She hoped not, because she knew Sam would choose the side that protected his child, no matter what. So it was her job to integrate Sam into the squad again, so the squad would accept him -- as Duck said, he was family, too. It was time everyone remembered that. She cleared her throat. "Now, if we can get to the day's business. We've got a promising source for Fleet refueling operations, which the Old Man wants to scout for hostiles..."  
  


* * *

  
  
" _How you doin', Oracle? Found the throttle yet_?" Kara's voice joked over the wireless.  
  
Even as he pushed it to catch her, he answered dryly, "I think so... oh there it is." And he put on the afterburners to zoom past her at close range, taunting her so she couldn't resist.  
  
" _Oh, no, you don't_." She started to chase him before she announced, " _Duck, you have lead to check out the gas giant. I have to teach our nugget here a lesson_."  
  
Laughing, Duck answered, " _Wilco, Starbuck_."  
  
" _Oracle, change heading for the moon. Let's see what you remember_."  
  
Grinning, he turned to go that way. Out here in the stars, flying felt like playing pyramid in a full stadium. It was all speed and adrenaline humming in his veins. He pushed his Viper to the limit, competing against Kara as best he could, as they raced through the craters and canyons of the old chunk of airless rock.  
  
He let go of everything else, concentrating only on flying. No memories, no visions of doom, no babies, just him and Kara against the black. She pursued, and he evaded, not quite managing to turn the tables on her, but still twisting free at the last minute several times.  
  
" _Damn it. Hold still_!" she exclaimed in frustration.  
  
He laughed, and dove to the deck again, nearly managing to lose her. But she came after him, daring a tighter turn, and he heard the high pitched warning of weapons lock when he leveled off.  
  
" _Ha_!" she crowed. " _Got you! Didn't see that one coming, did you_?"  
  
"Damn it," he groaned, disappointed. But he still smiled when she pulled alongside. "Next time, I'll make that twist, too."  
  
" _Sure you will, Oracle, sure you will_ ," she taunted. " _I'll just find another way to beat you. You're old and slow_ ," she teased, and he could see her grin through the canopy.  
  
"Oh, ouch, I've never heard that one before," he retorted dryly, rolling his eyes. He'd been getting young players trying to taunt him with those words since the Wildcats; the older he got, the less it bothered him. "Game over? Or do you have to test me some more?"  
  
" _You pass_ ," she answered, now serious. " _If anybody was thinking you can't hack it, they don't anymore. Welcome back, Oracle_."  
  
The words pleased him more than he had expected. "Feels good to be back," he murmured. And it did. The Viper cockpit felt familiar in a way that the _Galactica_ didn't.  
  
" _Good. That's enough for today_ ," she turned back toward the ship and he saw the blaze of her thrusters before she said, " _Race you to the barn_!"  
  
"Hey!" He kicked in the afterburners, knowing he was never going to catch her with such a headstart, but he followed her laughter in.  
  
On the way, he lifted his head to look out at distant stars. Wondering. Earth was out there somewhere, probably not too distant.  
  
But nothing called to him  
  


* * *

  
  
"Damn, you're slow," Kara grinned at him cheekily as he climbed down from the cockpit. "I've been here for ages. Right, Chief?" she asked Tyrol, who was coming near to get his report. He didn't quite look at Sam.  
  
"Of course, Captain," Tyrol answered. "Any problems, lieutenant?"  
  
"No. It flew fine. Just like the one I had before."  
  
"Good." Tyrol walked away, leaving Sam wishing he could say or do something. He remembered being friends, or at least allies, and it felt wrong now to feel this distance, even though he knew they weren't friends here and now.  
  
"Oh, look, there's Julia. Come meet her, Sam. She's the one who saved Hera off New Caprica." Kara marched off, toward a familiar woman waiting by the main hatch.  
  
"Kara," Julia smiled a greeting at her, but turned her eyes on Sam. "I'm sorry to bother you again, but I promised to deliver a message."  
  
"Again?" Kara asked. "You already know each other?"  
  
"I had to ask him," Julia murmured in explanation. "About Kacey. And she's going to live, Kara. She's going to see Earth. Thank you," she said again to Sam. "You... gave me hope. That's a precious gift. And I can't thank you enough."  
  
He shrugged, now distinctly uncomfortable. "You said you had a message? From who?"  
  
She glanced to the side and then pulled them away from people, into the shadows underneath the observation catwalk. Kara followed. Julia murmured, "From Baltar."  
  
"What? He's in the brig," Sam said, frowning. "Why the hell does he want to talk to me?"  
  
"I don't know, he didn't speak to me directly. Since I'd met you, I volunteered to pass the message."  
  
"But why would you do anything Baltar wants to do?" Kara asked.  
  
Julia faced her, an earnest expression on her face. "Have you read his book, Kara? He makes a lot of sense in it; he says things I've always believed true. We'll never heal if we keep looking backward. Not all Cylons are our enemy. New Caprica failed because we weren't ready; but our future is together, in children like Hera and Iris. Right, Sam?" she turned back to him suddenly. "That's what it's all about."  
  
"Baltar says that?" Sam asked, frowning. Julia nodded.  
  
"He knows the truth. So you'll go see him? I'm sure you have a lot to talk about."  
  
"I..." He didn't really want to get involved in Baltar's trial. It was bad enough he was seen as a Cylon sympathizer, without also being a crony of Baltar's. But if Baltar was spreading word that both races had to work together, that was the same as Sam's mission among the Cylons. "I will."  
  
Julia smiled brightly at him. "Thank you. I'll let the others know."  
  
She hurried off, and Kara rounded on him. "You aren't really going to visit him, are you?"  
  
He shrugged, wishing this weren't so distasteful. "Look, I know what he did. I know all of it. And I know he's trying to save his own skin and shift the conversation away from New Caprica. But ... if what he's saying makes things a little safer for Iris and Thea, then I have to at least hear him out."  
  
Kara heaved a sigh but didn't disagree. She shook her head at him in rueful amusement. "This from the guy who told everyone who would listen that Baltar was full of crap and New Caprica was going to fail terribly."  
  
"I know, I know," he groaned. "C'mon, let's go change."  
  
On the way to the locker room to stash his borrowed flightsuit, Sam wondered what Baltar really wanted. Sam had been on the ship for more than a month, and this was the first he'd heard about Baltar wanting to talk to him.  
  
Kara broke into his musings. "So Julia asked you to tell her the future? Does that happen a lot?"  
  
"Too often. And I have to tell them no." The worst were the people who thought his refusal meant they needed to bring a bigger gift.  
  
"Maybe that's what Baltar wants -- for you to tell him his future."  
  
He snorted. "Don't need a special vision to know that, not with Roslin itching to airlock his ass."  
  
She chuckled. "No, guess not." As Sam sat down on the bench to pull off the boots, she asked softly, "Sam? Have you ever seen anything about me?"  
  
He froze, struck by the question. But he rarely saw anything about other individuals, and nothing about Kara. "No." He swallowed and dampened his lips. "Do you want me to try?"  
  
"Can you do that now? Actually get a vision when you want?" she asked and sat next to him on the bench.  
  
He shook his head and gave a tight shrug, aware suddenly of how close she was. "Not usually. But I don't usually try either."  
  
"All right. Leoben keeps telling me I have a destiny. So let's hear it." She smiled cockily, throwing down the challenge.  
  
Remembering what he'd once seen of Galen's future, he hesitated. "I don't know if this is such a good idea," he murmured, staring into her eyes. "It could be bad."  
  
"How bad could it be?" she retorted, but her voice faded to a whisper as he reached out and touched her cheek with his fingers.  
  
 _Let me see something, let me give her something in return for what she gave to me_ , he prayed, trying to open himself to the voice of God again and see something for Kara.  
  
But he didn't actually expect anything to happen.  
  
The light of the ship brightened, making her hair shimmer golden. Behind her, the grey metal of the lockers faded away for blue sky.  
  
"Sam?" she whispered, her eyes widening. "You see something? Really?"  
  
"You're on a planet," he murmured and he kept staring because he didn't want to blink and lose it. "I see sky. The breeze is salty like the sea. I think... I think it's Earth. God, you're so beautiful in the sunlight..."  
  
He leaned closer, drawn by those liquid eyes, and she watched him with slightly parted lips, her quickened breaths touching his skin. His hand cradled the side of her face, fingertips in her soft hair. She tipped her head toward him, and the touch of her hand was warm on his thigh.  
  
The banging and groaning of the hatch opening made him start guiltily, and he dropped his hand. Duck and Hotdog came in, laughing about something. Sam turned away, throwing his boots into the locker and trying to catch his breath.  
  
When Duck got close, he paused and looked at him and Kara, sensing something was off. "Everything okay?"  
  
"Sure." She stood and slammed her locker closed. "Why wouldn't it be? Thanks, Sam. Um, you're cleared to fly all but long CAP missions. Lucky you."  
  
She forced a smirk and left.  
  
Duck asked again, looking from the hatch back to Sam. "You sure everything's okay?"  
  
"Yeah." Nothing had happened. Nothing was going to happen, so long as he stayed away. And certainly nothing had happened that he could tell Duck about. Frak. But then he thought of Kara and Earth. "I ... saw something." Hotdog drew nearer at the words, so Sam looked up at them both. "You two are my friends, so promise me something -- I don't know when, I don't know how, but Kara will stand on Earth someday. Follow her."  
  
Duck nodded somberly, believing him. "I will." He put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You okay?"  
  
Sam forced a smile. "Fine. Just tired." Taking a deep breath, he closed his locker. "I have some things to take care of. Thanks." He squeezed Duck's shoulder, patted Hotdog's back, and followed Kara out the hatch.  
  
In the corridor, he turned toward the brig. Instead of going to Thea though, he went down the way to the marines standing guard on the outer door. "I'm told he asked to talk to me."  
  
They conferred but apparently had no specific orders to keep him out, while there was a standing order allowing him into the brig as a whole, so they unlocked the door and let him in.  
  
Unlike Thea and Leoben's special-built Cylon cells, Baltar's was much smaller with room only for a small table, cot, sink and toilet. Instead of the wire-mesh composite walls, this one had bars across the front.  
  
Baltar was writing at the table. He was unshaven and long-haired, but he smiled broadly when he saw Sam. "You came!"  
  
Sam moved closer to the bars. "I wasn't sure if I should or not. What do you want?"  
  
"Just to talk. I loved a Six, too, did you know that?" Baltar asked. "That's why I'm here. Because I loved her."  
  
Sam interrupted, impatient, "If you want to know whether I know anything about your future, the answer's no. And when I did tell you what I knew, you didn't frakking listen. Nobody ever frakking listens," he added bitterly.  
  
Baltar tilted his head. "They can't, can they?" he asked. "We're all a part of god's plan. You and me, more than anybody."  
  
"You?" Sam retorted. "It wasn't god's plan to get people killed on New Caprica. That was nothing but your ego. You collaborated --"  
  
"They held a gun to my head!" Baltar exclaimed. "What could I do?"  
  
"You could've said no."  
  
"Like you did?" Baltar snapped back. He stood up and approached the bars. "See, it took me a little while to figure it out, but I remember in the occupation how some of the Cylons talked about needing approval of their various projects. I couldn't figure out who they were getting approval from, since it wasn't the Cylon consensus on the surface, or me. Then I realized, it was you, the one they called their oracle. You were telling them what to do up on that baseship. If I'm a collaborator, then so were you."  
  
Sam's stomach lurched with guilt and then anger surged up to replace it. "Yeah, they wanted me to tell them what to do, for a couple of weeks. And you know what I got for it? Beaten half to death and put in a white box smaller than this cell."  
  
He leaned closer and murmured, "When I was rescued by my friends, one of the Sixes on my baseship confessed to me one night. She told me what she had done. With you." It was very satisfying to see Baltar's eyes widen as Sam whispered through the bars, "She told me the reason the other Cylons call her Caprica and why they say she's a hero of the Cylon. So if you start talking about me or my daughter, I will give that story to Laura Roslin and that's all she needs to make sure you die. Do you understand? Do not frak with me. We're nothing alike."  
  
He turned to get out of there, angry at himself for letting Baltar get to him. He made it to the door before Baltar's desperate voice called after him, "We are, Sam! We're alike, we're both tools of God. She told me I had to survive, I had to give in to save them. The angel told me."  
  
Sam's hand froze before rapping on the door to tell the guards that he wanted out. _Angel_.  
  
"She says you know what I'm talking about."  
  
Sam lowered his hand and turned around. "Who? Who says?"  
  
"She says," Baltar said with a significant glance to Sam's left. "She's right there." His eyes tracked something Sam couldn't see, until it should've been at Sam's left shoulder.  
  
For a moment, Sam almost believed him, then he snorted, wondering why he was buying into this. "There's nothing there."  
  
"Of course not, she's in my head, but that doesn't mean she's not real, does it?" Baltar laughed nervously. "She says she's an angel of God. Sometimes."  
  
The echo of what "Kara" had told him made same uncertain again. Was it possible Baltar really was seeing something? He closed his eyes and concentrated, projecting his boat around him, hoping to see her. Was she here? Was she talking to Baltar, too? And why did that make him feel sick to his stomach?  
  
But he only saw Baltar in the projection, not a mysterious messenger of God. He let the projection go. "I don't see her. What does she look like?" he asked, bracing to hear Kara.  
  
"Like one of the Sixes, but... more. "  
  
Like a Six? Like Thea? He started with surprise, remembering a vision with Hera and two entities who looked like Six and Baltar himself.  
  
"You've seen her, too," Baltar realized, watching his face. "You really do see her. Then I'm not crazy. She's real."  
  
Frakking hell, how did he get manuevered into this? But he had to admit it was good to find someone else who had the same thing happen to him. Sam sighed. "I thought it was a vision. And I've only seen her looking like a Six once; the rest of the time she looks ... like someone else."  
  
Baltar's relief changed to surprise. "She doesn't look like a Six? But I thought, because you love a Six, too, that you would see the same face." His gaze searched Sam's for a moment. "Oh, of course, I should've known. She likes to prey on our longing, and that means she's someone else for you." His gaze shifted to the side as if he was listening to something and then smiled. "Kara Thrace, isn't it? That's who you really want."  
  
"None of your business," Sam said sharply, but knew he was only confirming Baltar's suspicion.  
  
Baltar smiled and changed the subject, now that he had Sam's full attention. "Did you read my book? It comes from what she's told me about destiny and God. We all have our parts to play. For me, it was to bring about the Flood. Only in destruction of the corrupt and decadent could we find renewal eventually."  
  
Sam's lip curled. "So the destruction of the Colonies was a good thing? Is that what you're telling yourself?"  
  
"Necessary, not good. It would've happened in the First Cylon War, long before my time, except the Cylons stopped for some reason. Only facing the end will we finally reach out to our enemies and find a new way. I had to do it. And when it's your time, you'll have to do it, too."  
  
That made a chill slip down his back, which made him angry. It wasn't for Baltar to know these things. "You're wasting my time. You're not telling me anything I don't already know."  
  
Sam started for the door again, but again Baltar stopped him, declaring, "You have to cleanse yourself of sin. That's what she says." Sam turned to see Baltar frown and ask the empty air, "What are you talking about? What sin?" But he apparently got an unsatisfactory answer, because he pouted a bit, and faced Sam again. "Does this make sense to you at all?" His eyes shot to the side and widened in alarm. He shook his head in protest. "No, I can't say that."  
  
Then abruptly his head smashed right into the bars as if it had been pushed, and Sam jerked backward in surprise.  
  
"Okay, okay," Baltar said desperately, "I'll tell him." Still against the bars, he lifted his head to look at Sam, not without sympathy. "I'm sorry. She says ... she says ... you have to die."  
  
Sam remembered a dim orange light, the smell of thick incense, and his blood on the stones, and he felt no surprise, just weariness. "I know," he whispered.  
  
He turned and Baltar didn't say a word to stop him as he left this time.  
  
He hesitated outside Thea and Leoben's cells, but he knew they'd see too much, and he couldn't talk to them, not yet. He wandered the corridors, until he ended up outside the chapel.  
  
Inside it was deserted, lit only by the presence lamp on the main altar table. He let the hatch shut quietly behind him and looked at the unlit candles and incense sticks, and the small medallions and idols that were all people had left of what had once been grand temples in the Colonies.  
  
"As it should be," a familiar voice said behind him. "Our day, too, is passing."  
  
He whirled around to see Kara there -- not the flesh-and-blood Kara he loved, the other one. She was wearing Kara's clothes, but her hair was long and most obviously, she seemed to have a light shining on her as she stood there and watched him.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me yourself? Why tell Baltar?"  
  
"That wasn't me, Sam."  
  
"There're two of you?"  
  
"We're not the only ones either. And she claims I'm the one who interferes." She sniffed disdainfully, then circled him, ending up at the side of the altar. "Beware of her, Sam. She wants you to follow your destiny."  
  
"Isn't that what you want?" he asked, frowning in confusion.  
  
"I want you to choose freely, understanding the truth. And one of the things they would have me hide from you is that Iris shouldn't be alive." She waved a hand and the candles on the altar sprang into small golden flames. "She frightens them."  
  
He smiled mirthlessly. "Because she's a Cylon?"  
  
"Because she's a miracle."  
  
He wanted to believe that, but he knew what Iris really was. She wasn't a miracle; she was a hostage. What God gave, He could take away if Sam didn't follow the path. He stared at the candles until the lights blurred in his vision. "Is it true?"  
  
"Is what true?"  
  
"Is it true?" he demanded, lifting his face to her, anger burning inside. "What she said. Tell me, damn it, is it true?"  
  
She didn't have to ask what the other being had said. "You know it is. All living things must die, Sam. And you, because of what you did, you have to choose it."  
  
"I have to kill myself?" he asked, not really surprised.  
  
But she was shocked and took a step toward him, shaking her head with her hand outstretched. "No! Suicide is a sin. But when your time comes, you must surrender to true death. No evasion, no immortality, no resurrection- acceptance. And then, you will have the chance to end the cycles. If you fail, your four companions have their chances as well. If all five of you blow it, then the cycle begins again."  
  
Overwhelmed, he could only stare at her, until he finally found his voice. "Why? Why me? What did I do?"  
  
"What didn't you do?" she returned, with a wry smile. "You over-turned the pattern of creation and threw it on the floor."  
  
"Because we created resurrection on Kobol," he said, not taken in by her levity. He didn't really have to ask the question; he knew. "We cheated death. And it led to that horror you showed me on Kobol. That was our crime, wasn't it? Our sin?"  
  
He remembered the bodies and ruins on Kobol. He had brought war to a place that had none, and in fighting for more life, had brought more death.  
  
Her face crumpled with sudden sympathy, and she was suddenly before him, holding his face between her hands. "No, my love, don't you see? You were right. Death isn't always the right choice, no matter what the others say. And life is never wrong. You taught me that. Your choices were made in love. And they are choices. There is more than one path. Remember that and don't despair. I'm here to help you." She kissed him, then pulled back with her hand on his cheek. "Be patient and I'll see you soon," she promised.  
  
Then, she was gone, with the only trace of her in the lit candles and the lingering feel of the press of her lips against his.  
  
'More than one path.'  
  
He prayed that was true, because right now he saw no way out of this.  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

She was in her old apartment on Caprica. There was a giant mandala on the wall but the sight of it made her angry, she picked up buckets of wall paint and threw them at the mandala, until eggshell white covered the wall, her skin, her hair, everything.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind and slipped down her arms. She leaned into the touch, back into a hard chest, letting her head tip back as the hands cupped her breasts, sliding in the paint in a caress until she was biting her lip, wanting more. She reached behind with both hands, her own hands slick with paint on his hips and down his thighs. He caressed down her stomach and between her legs as she bit her lip to keep back a moan. 

Knowing fingers stroked her, while lips and teeth nipped at her neck and ear, bristles of beard scraping her shoulder. Her fingers tightened, as she shuddered, but that wasn't enough. She arched, pushing her hips back to feel he wanted her just as much, wanting more, wanting the feel of him in her, hard and fast. "Yes, c'mon," she let go to put her hands on the wall, covered in paint and it felt so perfect when he thrust inside her. "Yes, yes, that's what I need, c'mon, baby," she muttered and grunted as he frakked her, his hands on her hips to hold her steady. 

Her head was swimming with the fumes, and everything felt suddenly far away as if she was flying, and yet she was still tethered to the ground by this feeling tightening in her lower belly. 

She slammed her hips to meet him, "let me go," she chanted, "let me go, let me fly, damn you, do it--"

Then finally it snapped and she was free, to fly. And the winds lofted her, as the pleasure jolted through her like lightening. But then it turned, the winds betrayed her and she started to fall… 

She reached out with both hands, trying to catch herself, but her fingers slipped on the paint. The winds tore at her, trying to pull her down. "No, no, I don't want - no - I can't - " she protested.

A warm body was still behind her and a familiar voice murmured in her ear, "There's nothing to fear on the other side, Kara."

She turned to confront him and opened her eyes to find she was in her rack. Sweaty and not at all satisfied, she pulled back the curtain, and sat up. 

Hotdog looked down. "Starbuck, you okay?"

She glanced up at him, for a moment wondering if he'd go for it, but Brendan Costanza wasn't what she wanted. "Frak," she muttered. "I'm gonna take a shower." 

She ended up not at the showers but at Joe's. It was quiet, and Conner gave her two shots without her needing to say anything. She lifted her brows at him and he shrugged, answering "You look like you could use them."

She drained both, hoping that was enough to wash the dream out of her memory, and was about to signal for a third, when she noticed someone come in the far hatch. Lee looked tired, his uniform jacket half-undone, and he joined her at the bar. "Hey,' he greeted her with a tired smile. "Aren't you supposed to be in your rack?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Haven't tried yet, writing up the schedule for the mining operation with the colonel." He slanted a glance at her as Conner set out shot glasses for them both. "You approved Oracle for flight status." 

Shrugging again, she answered, "He flew fine. A little rough, but that'll fade with some more time in flight."

Lee opened his mouth as if he wanted to ask her something else, but since the last thing she wanted to talk about was Sam, and especially his Cylon girlfriend, she smiled, "Bet you need more time in flight, too. Gonna lose flight status, Apollo, if you don't practice handling your stick."

"I handle it just fine," he slammed back his shot. 

She chortled, "That's what they all say, and then they get in the cockpit and suck."

"Anytime you want to throw down, I'm there," he retorted, trying to glare at her, but she saw the telltale glimmer of a smile. 

"You wish." It was so easy to slip into taunting him, so easy to know how to push his buttons. And she had the feeling he was letting her anyway, knowing where this was going to go. She stood up, "Going back to the racks."

"I'll go with you."

They got exactly as far as the next empty supply room, where she dragged him in the hatch and shoved him against the bulkhead. 

His mouth was hot and heavy on hers, d her hands threaded in his hair to keep him against her, grinding her hips against his hoping he'd get the message.

Then with a sharp breath, he pulled away. "What are you doing? No, Kara, stop. Not like this."

She tried to pull him back, "Okay, how do you want it then?" she slipped both hands down his back and pulled him by the hips tight against her. "Mmm, not totally disinterested, Apollo, c'mon, let's frak, you know you always wanted to."

She kissed him some more, biting his lip when he tried to pull back. 

"Kara - " He jerked his head to the side. "What's this about?"

She slid her hands down his chest and the front of his pants. "If you have to ask…"

He grabbed her wrists. "No, you're drunk and I'm not going to cheat on Dee, just so you can punish Anders."

Stung by the unjust accusation, she jerked away and stepped back. "Well, frak you, then." At the hatch she looked back over her shoulder, "Why is it that you only remember Dualla five minutes later, Lee? You should think about that."

Then she slammed out of there, angry and still wanting something - _someone_ \- to get this itchy feeling off her skin.

* * *

At morning briefing, Sam followed Jean and Duck in, and took up seats in the front row. 

Kara was already there, talking to Helo, and when she went to the podium, Hotdog called attention. 

"Today is a big operation day. The Raptors will be doing sensor sweeps of the moons, looking for more useable deposits of ice or tylium ore. If you happen to stumble on something edible that's not algae, for frak's sake, report it asap."

"So say we all," more than a few pilots murmured fervently. 

"Helo has your individual assignments." She went on, "Vipers will do CAP rotation as scheduled. Hotdog's squad will be flying escort for the Raptors. Duck, your squad will join me, escorting the _Grantha_ into the planet for refueling." 

Sam glanced at the board. He was with Duck's squadron, which was something of a relief, since Pike and Narcho were on Hotdog's and they'd already made their displeasure at his return plain. 

Kara touched a control and the overhead lights dimmed. A projection appeared of the large gas giant with its multitude of moons appeared. "This planet's nothing but a storm, and a hard deck only five hundred klicks in, so watch yourselves." 

The image focused in, only shades of grey, but he stiffened at the sight of the storm-tossed bands and planet-sized hurricanes -- he'd seen this before. 

... _a Viper in the midst of swirling gas, and the undeniable knowledge that he had to do this, and the Viper blew up with a burst of white_... 

His fingers went cold and numb, and he didn't hear another word Kara said. When she dismissed the pilots, he rose automatically, following Jean beside him.

The words of the messengers haunted his ears. " _to clean yourself of sin. All living things must die. Because of who you are and what you did, you have to choose it._.."

"Sam?" Barolay asked, nudging him, and he blinked with a start, tearing his gaze away from the image on the screen. "Hey, you okay?"

The other pilots were filing out, and he forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Knowing him well enough to know he wasn't 'fine' she frowned. But before she could speak, he gripped her shoulder. "I'll meet you in the locker room. I .. I have to go. Run an errand. I mean, go to the head." He wanted to kick himself for the babbling lies, which Jean saw through instantly. "I'll catch up with you."

Before he could blurt out the truth, he ducked out and hurried to the brig. He knew he shouldn't do this; if Thea figured it out, he'd be stuck. But he couldn't help it. It wasn't fair to leave without a word when this might be -- probably was -- the end.

He tugged at his dog tags. They were both his own again, and he knew what that meant. What he'd foreseen in the Temple was here, now. It was something of a relief, to face it at last. It had been hanging over his head 'in the future' but now it was _here_. 

Thea glanced at the door, frowning as he came in. "Sam? Aren't you on duty?"

"I am," he answered. Looking into her eyes made the guilt well inside him -- she was here because of him. She could be with her people, not stuck in this cell. But she wasn't because she'd followed him.

He smiled at her, hoping the smile didn't look as sickly as he felt. "Wanted to see my favorite girls before we fly." Iris was asleep on the cot next to Thea, and he bent down to kiss her head and feather a finger across her soft cheek. 

"She's perfect," he whispered. And he couldn't protect her anymore. "She'll follow Hera as the shape of things to come. The next generation. An age of peace."

"Sam?" Thea asked, worriedly. "Did you have a vision?" 

"I have to go." He leaned into her to kiss her lips and cradled her beautiful face between his hands. "I'm sorry I brought you here, but I can never be sorry about Iris. She's our miracle."

She gripped his shoulders. "Sam, what are you saying? Why are you telling me this right now?" 

"Sometimes we have a choice, and sometimes we don't, but I had a choice to love you. And I did."

She was shaking her head as he pulled back. "What's going on?"

He kissed her forehead so she couldn't see the lie in his eyes. "I don't know. Something's happening, and I couldn't let that stay unspoken. Not today."

Kissing the baby's cheek again, he pulled away from them both, blinking back the threatening heat. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said. Then, trailing his fingers for one last touch of Iris' tiny foot, he escaped the cell.

He made it out of the brig before he slumped into the bulkhead, forehead against his arm, taking ragged breaths. 

_I'm one of the Five. I'm a Cylon. I leave death in my wake, everywhere I go -- from Kobol to the Colonies. That's the sin I carry, the dark stain I have to pay for. So I have to leave them behind. But when I do this, please, God, and Lords of Kobol, I ask in exchange that you protect Thea and Iris. Give me that much at least, that my baby girl will live to see Earth._

Though he didn't receive any answer, he lifted his head and wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the wall. He felt centered and calm. Whatever would happen, would happen.

It was time to take Leoben's advice and stop fighting the stream. He was nothing but a leaf; it was time to let the currents take him where they will.

* * *

In the Viper, Sam looked at the gas giant as it grew bigger and bigger, filling his canopy until it was all he could see, bands of storms circling the planet, fierce winds that would tear any ship apart. 

His hands tightened on the sticks, wondering how he would know. Maybe he was already supposed to know enough and he should just… do it. 

His chest felt as if icy bands were clamping his ribs and he couldn't quite draw breath. He saw Iris' little face and her big blue eyes in his memory and felt nauseous. He couldn't do this. He couldn't leave her.

But what else was there? Was there a choice? He'd seen the Viper in the storm, he knew it would happen. He knew it meant death. If he avoided it, what worse fate would fall? 

Maybe he would resurrect. He'd seen a resurrection tub on the baseship. It had looked… strange… but as far as alternatives went, waking up in a bathtub of what looked like milk was better than not waking up at all. 

But the messenger who looked like Kara had said he had to accept his fate. If he had to die, then so be it. It had been a miracle that his Raider had come to him, like Cerberus in the depth of hell, to save him in the first place. Time to repay that miracle.

He swallowed and clicked the wireless to lie: "Starbuck, Oracle. I'm getting a strange ghost on sensors at 134 carom 38. Going to check it out." Before he'd finished he turned the ship and headed into the planet.

" _With you, Oracle_." She answered and turned to join him. 

"Negative," he told her. "It's probably nothing."

" _Probably. But just in case. Dradis is squat in this soup anyway_."

She followed him. Crap, he shouldn't have said anything. He kicked in the turbos, rocketing away from her Viper and heading into the top level of the atmosphere. Immediately he had to tighten his hand on the controls as the ship was buffeted by the winds. 

" _Oracle, what the hell_?"

Deeper. He had to go deeper and lose her. 

"I see it," he lied. "I see it."

" _What do you see_?" Kara demanded. " _Oracle, report_."

And somehow, she was there, on his wing, so close he could see her helmet. He hadn't shaken her from his tail at all. 

"Kara, go back," he ordered and he angled the ship down again, deeper, and the gravity strengthened, pulling him down. The warning for approaching hard deck was shrill in his ears, louder than even the sound of the ship in the wind. 

" _What the frak are you doing? Oracle, pull up! There's nothing here_!" 

"No. You're wrong. There's a storm here," he answered. "It's a storm I've seen before."

And he reached out and flicked off the main engines. He took his hands of the stick, letting the wind sweep him into the current, pulling him into the swirl and downward. 

Her voice edging into worry and anger, she yelled at him, " _Oracle, restart! Sam, what the hell are you doing? Are you crazy_?"

"I lied, Kara," he admitted. "I saw this in the Temple of Five; I always knew what it meant. I'm sorry." 

" _What? No, no, you're not doing this, I won't let you_ ," she said frantically, and maneuvered closer to him, pushing her way through the grip of the storm by sheer dogged determination. " _You can't give up_."

"Actually, I have to," he answered. "That's… kind of the point, I think." There was a horrific screech of metal and the ship shuddered. The display informed him he was losing one of his engines -- it was getting torn off. "Go, Kara. You have to get out of here."

" _No, I won't let this happen, Sam, I won't_ ," she insisted and maneuvered closer to him. " _You know the future's not fixed. You can change it_."

"Not this time."

" _You can't do_ \--" she interrupted herself with a cry of surprise. " _Frak_!" 

That stirred him from his determination with sudden concern. "Kara!" 

" _You lost your port engine, and it hit my bird_ ," she reported. 

"Are you okay? Where are you?" He looked around for her wildly, finding her beneath him, very close. Suddenly his ship bumped as she hit it. "What the frak?" he demanded, hands flying to the stick. She was trying to forcibly lift his ship upward. "Kara, stop it! You can't fight it!"

" _Yes, I can_ ," she answered through gritted teeth. " _See, the thing is, that's what I do. And I won't let that little girl grow up without a father, just because you're desperate to martyr yourself_."

"That's not what--" He could feel the ship shaking, locked together as she shoved his Viper away from the hard deck. "You can't do this, Kara, you'll kill us both! Stop it!"

" _I am doing it, so shut up_ ," she ordered. His left hand went to the restart button, so he could pull the Viper away. She said, over the crackling wireless, " _And don't even think about restarting, because that's right in my face and my canopy's cracked_."

"Damn it, Kara!" 

" _I didn't save you from the toasters, but by the gods, I will not let you die here_." 

"KARA!" 

Then with a last bump, her Viper shoved his upward again, so he saw stars above and swirling gases below. A minute brush of the stick and the Viper twirled to see Kara's framed by a swirling of gases, colors, and lightning. 

Exactly as he had seen it before. 

She murmured in a dreamy, lost voice, " _Mama, is that you_?" 

"Kara!" he shouted. "You have to pull up!"

" _I see it now. This is what he was talking about_ ," she said and her voice was strangely calm. " _This isn't for you, Sam. It's mine. It's always been mine_."

Her ship was getting smaller, pulled down and sucked in until he couldn't see it anymore. He punched at the controls to restart the main thrusters, but nothing happened. "No, Kara--"

" _You aren't the only one with a destiny, you know_ ," she answered. " _I understand that now_."

He punched at the restart again, frantically, and the engines sputtered back to life. "Come on, come on, don't do this-- You don't understand, Kara, this isn't what you think -- " 

The mists parted for a moment to see her Viper, far away but gleaming brightly as if it were a distant sun itself. 

" _I'll see you on the other side, Sam. I'm not afraid anymore_."

There was a flash of brilliant white light and then an expanding cloud of debris and fire.

For a moment he stared, shock filling him then yelled, "No! No! Kara!"

And he pointed his ship to go down with her.

Light flashed, blinding, and for a moment he thought his ship had exploded, too. But he was standing in the Hybrid's chamber, facing her. She was sitting there, long dark hair down her back wearing her blue dress, and dangling her feet in the empty tub. 

She looked straight at him and repeated words she'd told him before: "Do not follow her."

"I have to - I have to open the way - don't I?"

Her voice hardened in dire warning. "This is not your path. You have lost the path and if you follow her, all your children will be lost in the dark."

Light filled his vision again.

He blinked and was back in the Viper. Looking down, he let out a frustrated scream of rage and anguish, but pulled back on the stick to climb, and he left her behind.

* * *

"She's dead because of you!" Lee exclaimed, advancing on Sam. "You made her come rescue your crazy ass and now she's gone. You son of a bitch, you're not worth it!"

He swung and Sam closed his eyes. The blow fell on his cheek and side of his head, snapping his head back as his face exploded into pain. He staggered into the bulkhead.

But the pain started to fade, and it wasn't enough. He shook his head once and taunted, "That all you got, Adama? And here I thought you cared."

"Shut up, you toaster frakker, it should've been you!" His fist buried in Sam's stomach and the other hit him in the face again. "It should've been you!"

Sam didn't raise a hand to defend himself. Coughing, he bent to catch his breath, but he managed to look up and say, with blood in his mouth, "Yeah, it was never you, was it?"

Lee's blue eyes went incandescent with rage and he lifted a fist to hit Sam again. 

"Lee! No!" Dee shouted from down the corridor and rushed toward them. Lee froze, jaw clenching as he glared at Sam. She grabbed his wrist. "Stop it!"

Suddenly the ship seemed to tilt beneath him and he fell against the bulkhead, dizzy. "You're right," he told Lee hoarsely. "It should've been me." He sagged to the floor, feeling the blood trickle from his lip, his face felt on fire, and his stomach ached. But none of it mattered.

He rested his head against the cold steel of the bulkhead and shut his eyes. Hopefully this would be a nightmare and he would wake up.

"Dee, take Apollo out of here," Barolay's familiar voice snapped. Then more softly from beside him, "Oh for frak's sake," she murmured. "Were you really going to stand there and let him beat you?"

"It's my fault," he whispered. "She saved me. She wasn't supposed to save me."

"You're both so gods-damned reckless," Jean said and her voice caught. "Come on, get up."

Sam opened his eyes and seized her shoulder. "I can't do it myself, but you can, Jean. You can fix this. All I have to do is surrender and you can kill me, it'll all be over..."

Her hand slapped over his mouth, stopping his words, and she shook her head, distressed. "No. I'm not doing anything of the kind. And neither are you," she ordered him firmly. "Kara wouldn't want that, Sam."

The pain welled up at that, sharper than any pain of his injuries and he caught his breath. "Oh god, I killed her. Kara's dead and I loved her and I killed her."

Jean's arm went around him and pulled him into her body. "Hush," she murmured into his hair. "It was just an accident, just a tragic terrible accident. It's not your fault."

But the words were no comfort, and Sam didn't think there ever would be.

* * *

When he went in to Thea's cell, he found Leoben in there, too. Thea was holding Iris, and the look in her eyes was cold and angry.

"You knew," she spat furiously. "You were leaving us."

The accusation hit him, sharp because it was true. "I had to," he answered. "It was supposed to be me."

"No," Leoben denied firmly. "It was never you. It was always Kara."

He shook his head. "That's can't be. I saw the Viper in the storm -- I --" His stomach sank like a cold stone, getting harder and colder as it fell. "Oh God. I saw her on Earth. It was Earth, she was supposed to lead us to Earth, and I ruined it."

"Sam, come here," Thea urged him, now soft and understanding. 

"No," he shook his head and backed away, into the shut door. "I killed Cally and Nicky. I killed Kara." And the truth hit him as he hadn't really understood before. "I kill whole worlds," he whispered, remembering the war-shattered city of Kobol. "Because of me."

Leoben caught him under the arms as his knees folded and brought him to the cot.

"You are a miracle of God," Leoben told him without evasion or doubt. "This was all meant to be. Kara followed her destiny."

"To die in a storm on a planet that doesn't even get a name?" Sam demanded in sudden fury. "She was there because of me. Her destiny was Earth --"

"No," Leoben insisted. "She saw those circles as a child, long before she met you. This was meant to be, and you could not take it from her."

"But why?" Sam asked, imploring him to make it all make sense.

Leoben's hand gripped his shoulder. "You, of all people, understand death isn't the end of anything, Sam."

And he wanted to believe it so badly... wanted to believe Kara wasn't really gone... But while he knew there was rebirth in the next circle, that wasn't enough. That didn't take away the loss.

"Here, hold her." Thea put Iris in his arms and he took her automatically, her tiny weight feeling like a feather across his palms. "She needs you, Sam. She needs you to be strong and to go on. I can't protect her alone."

He lifted Iris up and the baby waved her fists in futile baby punches. Her bright eyes looked into his, filled with an innocent joy, unaware of anything besides her daddy come to visit. 

Kara was dead, but she had died for this. He had to make sure it wasn't for nothing.

He put his lips on her soft baby hair and let the tears fall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! (to, um, all four of you, I guess?)

 

* * *

  
  
The sky was so amazingly blue. There were some small white clouds. A bird.  
  
Kara looked upward, watching the bird and the deep blue sky, feeling warm and unwilling to move for a long time.  
  
After a little while, she realized she felt grass beneath her fingers and when she moved her hands, there was dirt as well, grainy and moist. The scent of growing things touched her nose and she felt a breeze on her right cheek, stirring her hair.  
  
She was lying on the ground, on her back.  
  
Sitting up, she saw she was wearing her colonial tanks and BDU pants and boots and she frowned at them, sensing that wasn't right, for some reason. Why did she think she should be wearing something else?  
  
She was in a field of grass and small flowers, with a scattering of large leafy trees. There was a sun above the trees, bright and yellow. It was all very beautiful.  
  
It wasn't until she was on her feet and looked in the opposite direction of the sun, that she saw high towers, made of glass and metal, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of the city was a sudden reminder:  
  
 _Her Viper. The storm. Sam's voice yelling over the wireless. Her mother's death. Accepting her own fear and letting it pass from her. Bright flash of light filling her vision._  
  
"Where the hell am I?" she wondered aloud. "Is this Elysium?"  
  
"No," a voice answered behind her. She turned to see "Leoben", the same one from her vision standing before her, watching her with those deep eyes. "The doors to Elysium stand shut," he added. "No one, not even you, can cross the threshold yet."  
  
"But I'm dead."  
  
He hesitated and gave a hint of a smile. "Not exactly."  
  
She opened her mouth to ask what the hell that meant, but then snapped it shut. "Fine. If we're not in Elysium, where are we?"  
  
Surprisingly he answered, "Earth."  
  
"Earth?" This was Earth? She turned around again, slowly, the wild area to one side and the city in the distance. There were both birds and planes in the blue sky overhead. "The home of the Thirteenth Tribe," she murmured and ran her fingers through the tall grass with delighted awe. "It's real." Then she turned to look at Leoben. "How did I get here?"  
  
"You brought yourself," he answered.  
  
Realizing that tack wasn't going to get her any useful answers, she asked instead, "Why am I here?"  
  
"Because it already happened."  
  
She glared at him and thought about punching him in the face. "You enjoy frakking with people, don't you?"  
  
His smile widened, but he didn't deny it. "Come. This way."  
  
She followed him, heading for the city. Each step seemed to take them much closer than it should, until she stopped on the outskirts, where the houses were closer together. "How?"  
  
"A form of projection," he answered.  
  
"So this is all in my head?" she asked, not surprised.  
  
"The surroundings are real; the projection is you."  
  
She frowned, trying to figure that out. She could touch the grass, so she wasn't a ghost.  
  
He ignored her incomprehension. "This way,"  
  
Inside the city, which reminded her of any city on Caprica, with its homes and apartments, ground level shops, and vehicles that seemed different but similar. She couldn't read the signs, at first, until she thought back to the oldest scriptures, and realized it was a form of Kobolian.  
  
The city seemed quiet, but she passed a school where there were children playing, and grandparents pushing babies in prams. Not one gave her a second look, even though her clothing wasn't like theirs. At first she was glad, since she didn't want to run into trouble, but then it started to feel very strange that no one looked at her at all.  
  
Fed up with being completely ignored, she stood right in front of a business woman walking with a determined stride, "Excuse me--"  
  
The woman walked right through her.  
  
Kara gasped and turned to see the woman continue on her way as if nothing had happened. Leoben was watching her, glint of amusement on his face. "None of them can see us. We exist on a different level than they do."  
  
"Because I'm dead?"  
  
"Because you're more," he said, and started off again.  
  
"So if no one can see me, what are we doing?"  
  
"There's something you must see."  
  
"This is so weird," she grumbled. Kara started to smell the sea in the air and noticed the buildings turning older and more ornate, as they moved into what seemed to be the city center.  
  
Abruptly the buildings gave way to an embarcadero along a large body of water, either a large river or a bay. On the other side were the tall buildings she'd seen before, and now she could see an old-looking suspension bridge spanning the two.  
  
They ambled along the waterside path and Kara enjoyed the feel of real sunlight on her skin - it was soft and golden, compared to the harsher light of the algae planet.  
  
Curiously she began to hear the sounds of a crowd chanting something.  
  
Closer, she heard the words more distinctly, as someone shouted, 'What do we want?"  
  
And the small crowd roared back, "Peace now!"  
  
The crowd turned out to be about a hundred strong, gathered in front of what looked like a temple. There was a woman dressed as a priestess or a sister on the top steps, and she was the one leading the calling. "What do we want?"  
  
"Peace now!"  
  
"Are they at war?" Kara asked Leoben.  
  
"For the past four years, more if you count that as a mere truce."  
  
But she didn't ask any more as she took an involuntary step forward as her eye fell on the man to the left of the priestess, leading the response. He was carrying a guitar, and he looked a lot like Sam.  
  
She pushed closer to see, not even noticing when she walked through people, because the closer she got, the more it looked like him.  
  
It _was_ him.  
  
It wasn't her Sam of today, worn down by prophecy and war, but a younger version from his playing days, with the same short, spiky dark hair and enthusiastic blue eyes.  
  
The priestess raised her hands to silence the crowd. "And now we will sing the song Sam wrote for us and carry it to the rest of our lives, that this war must not continue. It is an abomination of the gods, and we call for peace! The world must change before it's too late."  
  
The crowd cheered, and the priestess gestured, "Sam. Please."  
  
Kara stared. His name was Sam, too? "He looks exactly like Sam," she murmured to Leoben.  
  
"He is."  
  
"But, this is Earth. How is this possible?"  
  
"The Samuel T Anders you know is only a part of who he is and was," Leoben answered.  
  
Sam stood to stand beside the priestess and started to play his guitar. It took a moment for the crowd to settle, but when they did, a hush fell over them, and he began to sing in a warm baritone voice.  
  
"...And don't speak too soon, for the wheel's still in spin. And there's no telling who that it's naming, for the loser now will be later to win..."  
  
As he sang and the crowd sang with him, he looked out, and then he looked right at her.  
  
Reflexively, she looked behind her to see if he was seeing someone else, but there was no one else there. When she turned back, he was still looking at her, now with an amused smile.  
  
Then his attention was pulled away by the song, to finish it, "And the times they are a 'changing..."  
  
The chorus repeated, as a prayer for change and peace until the priestess raised a hand. "All of you, go in peace."  
  
The crowd began to break up, people moving away. Kara stayed where she was, watching Sam. Then, she realized what it must be. Sam had told her about remembering dying before. "This is his previous life, right? But it's uncanny how he looks the same..."  
  
"All this has happened before..." Leoben said, and trailed off with a smile as she glared at him.  
  
Then she looked at Sam some more, wondering. Sam - on Earth. He'd looked at her. "He can see me."  
  
Leoben shrugged. 'You want him to."  
  
She moved closer, watching as Sam hugged the priestess and moved to the edge of the steps where he'd left his guitar case.  
  
Without turning, he seemed to know Kara was approaching, saying, "I have to get back to work. Sorry." Then he glanced up. "I haven't seen you at a rally before. Are you new to the cause or an ISA spy?"  
  
"A spy?" she repeated with a smile. "No, I'm not a spy."  
  
It was strange -- he was Sam, but he didn't know her. He was playing guitar, had joined a peace rally, and had some kind of job that obviously had nothing to do with sports. So he wasn't exactly Sam either.  
  
He smiled in an exact copy of her Sam's flirty smile. "Good. Glad to hear it. So what do you do?"  
  
"I'm a ... pilot," she answered, leaving it vague since she had the suspicion he wouldn't approve of a combat pilot. "You? What do you do when you're not at peace protests?"  
  
He raised his head to look toward a tall building not far away. "I work there. Dominion Systems. Research."  
  
"Research?" she repeated incredulously. Sam was no dummy, but she'd never have pegged him as a scientist or engineer of any kind. "Really?"  
  
He stood up, guitar case in hand, and mistook her surprise, telling her stiffly, "Yes. I know they're a military contractor, but I work in non-weapon areas. Now excuse me, I have to get back."  
  
"Sure. Bye." She watched him walk away, thoughtful and curious.  
  
"What he didn't tell you," Leoben murmured at her side, and she started, having forgotten he was there, "is that his non-weapons work is in fact a devastating weapon."  
  
"What work? What does he research?"  
  
"Come. We'll follow him, and you'll see."  
  
They ended up at the top floor of the Dominion Systems building. Some time seemed to have passed: Sam was now wearing a sportcoat, waiting with his arms folded, staring at the wall in a sullen irritated mood.  
  
Kara stayed behind him, and then Leoben took her hand. She pulled away sharply, but he explained, "Let me hide your presence," he requested. "We should listen."  
  
"Well. Okay." She let him take her hand, as the secretary called Sam to go in.  
  
Before Kara could blink, Leoben brought her inside a large, spacious office. The opposite wall was all glass with a view of the bay, bridge, and city on the other side. There was a big desk in front of the window - there to be impressive - and a big chair turned away, so the occupant could look out.  
  
The chair turned around and she saw the face of the Cylon Cavil.  
  
She flinched, expecting him to see them, but he had eyes only for Sam. It was actively creepy to see the Cavil model sitting there, facing Sam.  
  
He glared in sour disapproval at Sam. "I pay you to work, Doctor Anders. Not attend peace rallies at the temple."  
  
"I was on my lunch break. Sir," Sam said with formal cold politeness. Kara wanted to laugh -- Sam hated this guy who looked like Cavil. Some things never changed.  
  
"Still, don't you think it looks bad that one of my top scientists is part of an effort to undermine his own company?"  
  
Stunned by the words, she looked from Sam to Cavil and back. 'Top scientists'? Really?  
  
"If a desire for peace undermines the company, then it's in the wrong business," Sam retorted.  
  
"Oh, don't climb up your moral mountain, son. You knew perfectly well when you accepted the offer you'd be taking a paycheck from a defense contractor. But the chance to work on AI with my daughter was more than you could resist, wasn't it? So where were all your high-minded principles then?"  
  
Sam flinched a little and stiffened his back. "AI is not supporting the war. We're a basic research--"  
  
"To make our robots into more efficient, better killing machines," Cavil interrupted. "And sure, it'd be nice if they'd also help little old ladies cross the street, but what we want is for our centurions to become autonomous. If there's going to be a war, shouldn't it be with machines that don't die, instead of people?" Cavil asked. "I'd think you'd be all for it."  
  
"The war is unnecessary and has led to the deaths of thousands of people," Sam started, furiously, "For nothing!"  
  
"They attacked us first."  
  
"That's what they say."  
  
"Ah, yes, you would know, wouldn't you?" Cavil asked, his voice suddenly silky. "You were born in Piscia, weren't you? I have a Piscian ex-patriate in my staff, agitating for an end to the war. I wonder what ISA would think of that?"  
  
"What? I'm not loyal to them! I hate them, too!"  
  
Kara could tell by the abrupt silence that Sam's angry outburst had gone a step too far.  
  
"You 'hate them, too'?" Cavil repeated and smiled like a shark. "Go back to work, Doctor. Make me a smarter robot. And stop attending peace rallies that make us look bad. Or you won't have to worry about getting fired, because you'll be in ISA interrogation. Am I clear?"  
  
"You can't--" Sam objected, weakly, and it was obvious he knew that Cavil could.  
  
"Am I clear?" Cavil demanded, cold and implacable.  
  
Sam hesitated, swallowed and pressed his lips together as if he fighting the urge to vomit, and then spat out, "Yes, sir."  
  
"I'm glad we had this conversation, then. You're dismissed."  
  
Sam turned to go to the door - his back and jaw was stiff, but the rest of his face furious. He slammed the door behind him.  
  
Cavil chuckled to himself smugly, then picked up the phone. Kara glared at him, wishing she could laser him with her eyes and then spun around, heading right through the wall.  
  
She stopped in the middle of the empty conference room on the other side and confronted Leoben. "So, 'all this happened before' right? That's what you're going to say? That talk about robots and AI - it sounds like how the first Cylon War started."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And Sam -- this Sam -- is right in the middle of it, as some kind of scientist. And that guy who looks like a toaster in the Colonies is his boss, and threatening him with, what, jail? Torture? What kind of frakked up place is this?"  
  
"Earth was never the sacred refuge the Colonies believed it to be," he answered.  
  
"Then why the hell send us there?"  
  
"There is no other path. The circle must close before it can be broken."  
  
She realized she was spending way too long in this place when that made sense. She let out an aggravated groan and shook her head. "You're annoying as frak, you know that?"  
  
His smile was knowing, and made her even more irritated. She stomped off, heading through the wall to find Sam again. This business of being a sort of ghost was convenient for getting places in a hurry. It still didn't make sense that she could lean against the same thing that she could pass through ten minutes later, but then again she was dead, so this was probably all in her head anyway.  
  
The thought niggling at her pushed its way up when she passed a window with a view of the city across the water, and for a moment it looked so much like the skyscrapers of Caprica City it hurt. This place could be a ruin, too, if the Cylons nuked it, as they had Caprica City.  
  
No, it would be a ruin. There was no 'could be' about it. And Sam... she already knew this was a past life for him. He was going to die. She remembered what he'd said about remembering being killed in the temple on the algae planet, and the way his eyes, normally so bright, had looked so dark and lost in the memory.  
  
Then she stopped and faced Leoben again. "Shouldn't he remember me? If I'm really back in time to his past, he should remember me, same as he does the Temple of Five. That was a past life, too."  
  
Leoben's gaze flickered away and he answered, looking out at the sun-touched skyline. "He will remember nothing of Earth until he steps on its surface again. He knows too much already." And he glared at her, as if it was her fault. Then he held out a hand. "There's more you should see."  
  
Reluctant to learn more, she nonetheless put her hand in his and let him lead the way.  
  
Sam was in what seemed to be his office, a small and messy room, and he stripped off his jacket, hurling it into his chair. "Bastard," he muttered. Kara was about to let go of Leoben's hand and approach him, when a female voice interrupted.  
  
"Hey, how'd it go?"  
  
Kara turned to see president Roslin's aide Tory Foster in the doorway. It was bizarre to see her there, smiling at Sam. Tory Foster was here, too? She wasn't dressed that differently from woman Kara had met, in slacks and a short-sleeved blouse.  
  
Sam snorted with sour humor. "At least he didn't fire me."  
  
"He can't fire you," Tory reassured him and came into the room, and there was a flirty curve to her lips that made Kara want to hit her. "We need you." Her hand stroked down his arm lightly. "Here, not in jail. I know you feel strongly about the war, but if the project is successful we'll be saving lives."  
  
He jerked away. "That's if any of us can crack it. Maybe it's impossible."  
  
She folded her arms. "Our ancestors did it. We know it's possible. And we're so close, I can feel it. Come spend time in lab Beta with us, it'll make you feel better. We brought fruit cake," she told him cheerfully and left.  
  
Thinking he was alone, Sam's smile abruptly vanished and he lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "Frak." But he let out a sigh, got a familiar look of determination on his face, picked up a flat rectangular tablet and left the room.  
  
Kara started to follow when her gaze happened to catch the line of pictures on the shelf beside the door and she stopped, stunned by one of them. It was a photo of Sam taken outside, by the water. He had that guitar and to either side were Tory, Galen Tyrol, and both Ellen and Saul Tigh. All five had their arms around each other and they were grinning at the camera in genuine camaraderie.  
  
Something in the picture made Kara's stomach tighten with apprehension. They looked the same as the people Kara knew -- not just Sam or Tory, but Galen and Saul and Ellen, too. It was a little strange, since she didn't think her Sam knew the other four well. He'd known the Tighs the best, before they'd left for New Caprica, but hardly Tyrol or Tory at all, and he hadn't spent time around them since his return from the Cylons that she knew of. He certainly wasn't close friends with any of them.  
  
Yet in this photo they all seemed like they belonged together.  
  
"They were so passionate," Leoben said, peering over her shoulder at the image. He sounded sort of admiring, but also sad. "And so arrogant that they knew best."  
  
"They're all scientists, then?" she asked. "They work here? That's so bizarre... " The only one she could really see as a scientist was Tyrol. But Sam, the pyramid player? The Tighs? The colonel was so Fleet, she couldn't imagine him not military, and Ellen rarely seemed to think about anything serious.  
  
"They are so much more than they knew." His finger slowly slid down the photo, and his face for a moment seemed terribly sad. "They brought it on themselves, I know, and yet ... I wish for them to be whole again." He turned to Kara. "But that won't happen until they learn some things are forbidden for a reason."  
  
She chuckled. "You know you're talking to the wrong girl if you want me to convince Sam to obey the rules, right?"  
  
He smiled and added dryly, "I have noticed. Come, it's time for you to learn what Sam's rule-breaking is leading him into now."  
  


* * *

  
  
Strangely, by the time they caught up to Sam it was after sunset. He was leaving the building, wearing a coat and still carrying his guitar case. Kara wanted to approach him, but hung back as he crossed the plaza, walked down the embarcadero and headed straight to the temple.  
  
At a side gate, he stopped, looked around furtively, and slipped inside.  
  
Kara chuckled. "What is this? A spy movie?"  
  
She and Leoben followed, entering a side garden where the same priestess was clipping some flowers.  
  
"Samuel? What brings you back so soon?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"I have bad news," he murmured. "I have to stop coming to the rallies. I got called to the CEO after lunch today, and ordered to stop." She nodded, unsurprised, but disappointed. He stepped closer to her and dropped his voice, "I'll continue the work from inside. But I can't come to the meetings anymore without ISA breathing down my neck."  
  
"I understand," the priestess. "Do what you can, and go with Aurora's grace, Samuel. We believe in you. Together we will bring an end to this war."  
  
She kissed his cheek and he slipped out the gate, leaving the priestess alone in the garden with her flowers.  
  
Kara moved to the corner, to watch a small fountain burbling quietly over some stones and thought about what he'd said to the priestess. "Oh gods," Kara realized. "He's sabotaging the AI project, isn't he?"  
  
"Once a rebel, always a rebel," Leoben shook his head in disapproval. "It's no wonder you two found each other."  
  
"I'm not a rebel," she retorted, affronted. He just looked at her. Then, considering the truth, she gave a shrug and added, "Mostly."  
  
Turning away she thought about Sam and decided she needed to find him. It was becoming easier to navigate now-- thinking about him brought her to the street, not far behind him. She followed behind as he hesitated, went down an alley, down some steps into a basement, and through the doors of what turned out to be a bar.  
  
It wasn't a nice bar either, like she would've expected. But people seemed to know him, nodding to him in greeting, and the bartender brought him a glass full of something without an order. Sam sat on the end stool and had his feet resting on his guitar case, hunched over his tumbler in a distinct attitude of 'go away.'  
  
She slid onto the stool next to him, and without looking at her, his mouth curved in a sardonic smile. "Great. The ISA girl. My day's complete."  
  
"I'm not ISA," she told him. "I don't even know what that is, actually, other than it sounds like it sucks."  
  
His eyes flaring with alarm before he turned to shush her, were all she needed to know about it. "Don't say that!"  
  
She opened her mouth to tell him that he was the only one in the bar who could see her, but then he turned back to his drink. "Not that it matters. You can be ISA, or not, but I'm not going back to the rally. So if that's your interest, talk to someone else."  
  
"You're my interest," she told him honestly. "Not the rally. I ... well, you remind me of someone. This guy I knew, all passion and fire and gods-dammed stubbornness. Refused to lay down and die when our enemies had him surrounded."  
  
His hand tightened on his glass, but he didn't look at her. "And?"  
  
"And... somehow he got some of them on his side and he brought her home. Now they have a kid." She added silently to herself, watching his profile, 'But here you are again and there aren't any Cylons to take you away this time.'  
  
Sam chuckled hollowly. "If only it was that easy here." He swirled his drink in the ice and drained it.  
  
The bartender came closer and Sam said, "Another, and one for my friend."  
  
The bartender glanced in Kara's direction, following Sam's vague gesture at the stool next to him. She smiled brightly, but the bartender didn't see her, frowning and he shrugged. "Sure, Anders. But take it easy - curfew's early tonight."  
  
"Sure, Charlie. Wouldn't want to get picked up by ISA, would I?" He asked, looking right at Kara.  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him, glaring, "Now you're being a pain in the ass."  
  
"You're the one stalking me."  
  
"Has nobody ever told you you're not bad looking?" she retorted. "Do I need more reasons than that?" She laid her hand on his forearm, and flinched at the warm tingle that passed through her.  
  
His gaze snapped to meet hers and he didn't move away. After a hesitation of looking into her eyes, he answered slowly, "No." He let go of his glass and covered her hand, fingers sliding over hers as if searching for the moment she'd pull away.  
  
But Kara had no intention of pulling away. This was her Sam, some crazy previous cycle version, who was different and yet strangely exactly the same -- and hers wasn't hers anymore anyway. She didn't really give a frak about any of that right now, not when he was touching her. She wanted so much to sit on the edge of the bar, wrap her legs around him and kiss him until all this strangeness went away.  
  
"Do I know you?" he murmured, bending his head closer to her and still looking into her eyes. "I feel like I should know you."  
  
"You do," she confirmed, wrapping her free hand up his shoulder and the back of his neck. "You will. I've known you so long, Sam."  
  
His gaze flickered with puzzlement but he leaned in to kiss her anyway. The case slipped out from under his foot and he tumbled off the stool, landing hard on the floor. "Ow. Frak."  
  
The bartender peered over the bar. "Anders? You okay?"  
  
"Are you hurt?" she asked.  
  
"I'm okay," he answered shortly as he sat up, wincing as he tested his elbow gingerly.  
  
She was going to salute his clumsiness with the drink the bartender brought, but her fingers passed through her glass. "Oh come on!" she muttered irritably. "I can sit on a stool but I can't drink? What kind of frakked up rule is that?"  
  
He grabbed his stool to pull himself back to his feet. "What did you say? I didn't catch it?"  
  
"I said it's too bad you don't play sports with coordination and grace like that," she teased.  
  
"I played triad in upper school. Regional champs," he said and downed his shot.  
  
"Triad?" she laughed at the thought of triad as a sport. "Really?"  
  
"I was pretty good," he retorted defensively. "I had 80 percent from the line, and Central offered me a free ride to come play. But I didn't want to spend all my time playing ball, when there were more fun things to do."  
  
She frowned. So 'triad' was some kind of ball game here, not a card game. That was almost weirder than finding out he was a scientist.  
  
Sam cocked his head when he noticed her glass was sitting there untouched. "You're not gonna drink that?" he asked her.  
  
"No, apparently not." She made a pout at the drink. The gods were nothing but a cruel tease.  
  
"Then I will. I've had a hell of a day." He drained hers and then fumbled in his pocket for a small square of plastic, which he laid on the bar. "There. Now, I'm going home. You wanna come?" he invited her casually, as if she was just some random bar hookup. Which she was, to him, which meant she had to make herself more.  
  
"I think I'd better, if you're always this clumsy. You'd probably fall down and break your neck."  
  
"Think you're funny, don't you," he retorted. "I'm fine." He promptly stumbled into a chair as he grabbed his guitar case. She laughed, and was glad to see his irritation dissolve into a rueful smile. He nearly hit the doorframe on the way out, except she jerked him out of the way.  
  
"Gods, you always need a keeper," she muttered and put her arm around his waist. It felt so ... familiar and welcome, and she couldn't help nudging him with her hip like she used to when they'd prowled around the empty ship looking for new places to make their own.  
  
He must have felt some of it, too, or at least known he couldn't walk straight without her help, since he left her arm there and stretched his own across her shoulders. He carried the guitar in his other hand and they walked together through the evening. At the door of his apartment building, he opened it with the touchpad and ushered her inside the high vestibule. They crossed the tile floor to the elevator and up to the sixth floor.  
  
"Sorry, my place is a bit of a mess," he confessed, as the doors slid aside. "I'm here mostly only to sleep."  
  
Since she remembered how Sam had managed to leave his crap lying around in their room on Galactica, despite having so little, she wasn't surprised to see the pile of laundry on the arm chair or the desk strewn with books, computer tablets, papers and an artistic stack of beer bottles. It was surprising to see the computer system taking up one entire corner, though. There were two large screens, sitting on a smooth shiny desk surface, and blinking equipment underneath.  
  
There was also another guitar and an amp on stands next to the computer, and he put the case down next to them.  
  
"You uh, want a drink?" he asked.  
  
Instead of dealing with the possibility that she might not be able to touch that glass either, she moved right up into him. "Not really. I'm interested in what you've got, Anders."  
  
His lips tasted of fruity ambrosia, and the feel of his rough upper lip against her lips was a welcome burn, as she wrapped her arms up his back and stood on her toes to feel his strength all against her. She kissed him every time she considered blurting out anything stupid like how much she'd missed him and how a quick frak in the closet hadn't been enough. His mouth hadn't changed at all - pulling at her so she felt it deep down inside, urging more. His hands moved eagerly on her waist, skimming her sides.  
  
She undressed him with quick fingers, taking advantage of his alcohol slowed reflexes, and pushed him back into his unmade bed. He looked up at her, amused and aroused by her aggression, and his low chuckle curled the heat low in her belly. "Used to getting your own way, aren't you?"  
  
"You know it." She pulled her tanks and bra off, and smirked as his eyes dropped to her bare breasts and stayed glued there. Then she crawled up his body and used her knowledge of what he liked mercilessly, until he was groaning and tried to flip her over. But she laughed and pinned his wrists. "No, baby." she wriggled her hips, rubbing them together until he was biting his lip. "Not yet. Hold out for me."  
  
He did, freeing his hands to run them all over her body, cupping her breasts and her hips and having a long enough arm to get his fingers between her legs. But she didn't let him finger her too long, wanting the rest of him.  
  
And gods, it had been so damn long, and it felt so good to sink down on top of him and frak until the world dissolved into sparks and heat.  
  
She let it fade, riding it out stretched out on his chest, as he panted and clasped her loosely in his arms.  
  
"I ... had a feeling bringing you home would be worth it," he said and dragged a lazy hand up her spine. "You're amazing."  
  
"You're okay."  
  
His chuckle was loud under her ear and he combed his fingers through her hair. "That's a clever ploy to get me to prove otherwise isn't it?"  
  
"Maybe." She lifted her head to grin down at him. "I bet you could do better if you put your mind to it."  
  
He lifted his eyebrows. "You were the one in the hurry."  
  
"So take your time."  
  
Nothing else mattered.  
  
  


* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

  
  
Kara watched Sam sleep, marveling how he'd sprawled across the bed, clearly unused to sharing it with anyone.  
  
"At least you're mine here," she murmured and let her hand hover above him, not quite touching.  
  
"Not for long," a sudden voice warned, and she flinched with surprise, flipping over to see Leoben in the corner by the door.  
  
"Get the hell out," she hissed.  
  
He didn't go. "You're not here for this."  
  
She got out of bed and stalked naked past him into the bathroom, knowing he would follow. After the door shut, she folded her arms and glared at him. "Since you're not telling me what I _am_ here for, seems to me I get to decide. And if I want to frak Sam, and he wants to frak me, I don't see what business it is of yours. Especially since I'm dead. And by the way, staring at naked people sleeping is really creepy and not helping your case."  
  
He pointed out dryly, "You were staring at him."  
  
"Not the same thing. So why don't you move along to wherever you go and leave us alone?" she demanded.  
  
"You need to do what you came here to do."  
  
"Which is?" she demanded.  
  
"Only you know that."  
  
She let out an aggravated groan. "You don't know, do you? You come in here to bitch at me and you don't even know." She turned away to splash water on her face. "Gods, what a pain in the ass."  
  
"You traveled a very long way to come here, Kara. That is not without a greater purpose."  
  
She patted her face dry and looked at herself and 'Leoben' standing behind her in the reflection. Odd to realize she could walk through this wall if she wanted and yet she also had a reflection. "Maybe I already did my greater purpose. I died, and I kept Sam from dying." She gripped the sink with both hands, remembering. "He was going to do it-- he was throwing himself in. But I knew that was wrong. That it was ... supposed to be... me..." Her words trailed to a stop, realizing he was right. "Shit. I haven't done it yet, have I?"  
  
She could see him smiling over her shoulder. He didn't say anything because he didn't have to.  
  
"Well, he's already sabotaging the AI project, so he doesn't need me to stop that. Otherwise, he plays guitar and goes to peace rallies." She shook her head and shrugged. "Doesn't seem like he needs anything from me."  
  
"He specializes in complex programs, but Centurion intelligence is not the only application."  
  
She snorted but took the hint. "I still can't believe my Sam has any science expertise whatsoever. But okay I'll look into it. Now go away and stop spying on us."  
  
He nodded and vanished. Kara moved through the bathroom door, disdaining opening it if she didn't have to, only realizing she should have when she looked at the bed and found Sam awake and watching her.  
  
He shut his eyes and opened them again, as if he thought he was dreaming. "Kara? Did you... just... "  
  
She smiled. "Did I wake you? Sorry. Needed some water."  
  
"But you... you…" he struggled to articulate what he'd seen, and she felt a little sorry for him. He wasn't going to ask her whether she'd just walked through the bathroom door, because it was clearly ridiculous and impossible. Even though he had seen it. He shook his head once and rubbed his eyes. "Never mind."  
  
She slid into bed and passed a hand up the outside of his leg and hip. "Since you're awake..." she suggested playfully and nudged her thigh between his.  
  
"I have to go to work tomorrow," he murmured, but not even his mouth was paying attention to his words, meeting hers then sucking playfully at her neck while his hand slipped down between them.  
  
He was too sleepy to be as vigorous as she usually liked, but there was something peaceful about the slow steady way he rocked into her, and the lazy way he kissed her face with his eyes shut that was especially appealing.  
  
When they both shuddered into easy climax, he wrapped his arm across her securely and kissed her hair.  
  
"You feel so good," He murmured. "There's this electric feeling like our nerves are exchanging information. It's...exhilarating and I've never felt it before with anyone. Like you make my life make sense," he murmured. Then he laughed at himself softly. "I forgot you were a bar hookup. I must still be really drunk. Sorry."  
  
She waited until he was breathing heavily in sleep and she drew her finger in a pattern on his arm. "We fit together."  
  


* * *

  
  
Remembering what Leoben had said about Sam's work, she went back while Sam was there, waiting invisibly while he argued with Colonel Tigh. He was not exactly the colonel, as this one seemed a bit younger and was definitely not military, but it was him. At first she found his presence so strange she didn't even listen to what they were actually talking about -- amused when Tigh snapped in the same irritated grumpy tone she'd heard many times in the past several years and slammed his way out of the office.  
  
Thinking he was alone, Sam made a face at the door and repeated, "'Data compression rate is too slow...' Yeah, and tell me something I don't know, Professor."  
  
She waited until he rounded his desk to pick up a computer tablet from the wall credenza behind his desk. She asked, "Bad day at the office?"  
  
He whirled around, startled, the computer tablet sliding out of his hand to the desk top. "My gods, how the frak did you get in here?" he demanded, glancing behind her to the door in a near panic. "This is a secure facility, how do you have clearance?" Then his eyes widened and his face fell in realization and betrayal. He took a step back from her, ending up against the credenza behind him. "Shit, you are ISA, aren't you?"  
  
She smiled and shook her head. "I'm not ISA, Sam. It's okay."  
  
"'Okay'?! if you're not ISA, then how the frak are you here?"  
  
She bit her lip, as it came home that she just frakked it up. "Damn it, I played this badly. Now I'm going to have to tell you, and it's so frakking crazy...."  
  
She trailed off, as there was a perfunctory knock on the door before it opened, and Tory poked her head in. "Talking to yourself again? Well, I don't blame you, since I heard Saul from the lab. What the frak did you say to him?" she asked, with a chuckle. "He's pissed."  
  
"I -- " he started, eyes darting to Kara and then to Tory, who didn't react to Kara's presence at all. "Do you see anything strange in this room?" he asked her.  
  
Tory laughed. "I see you looking like you finally figured out that provoking the boss' husband and our work partner isn't your best tactic."  
  
That distracted him from the mystery of Kara. "I'm not provoking him!" he exclaimed, irritated. "He wants me to increase the data compression rate, but I've pushed the current algorithm as far as I can, and I can't just pull another out of thin air. It's ridiculous."'  
  
"If it's going to work, the transfer has to be nearly instantaneous. Too long and physical death will halt the process."  
  
"Too short and it'll be full of errors and there's no point in that," he retorted. "But it's not like I have to hurry, since it's not going to matter until the rest of you can figure out how to download. Which is what I told him."  
  
Kara listened and with his words, understood what Leoben had meant about other applications for Sam's expertise. He wasn't only working on AI; a process relating to death and download meant _resurrection_. They were creating resurrection.  
  
Tory shook her head. "Nice. Speaking of, I could use your help in the lab. There's something wonky in the growing chambers cycle program."  
  
"Wonky? glad we have technical terms," he joked then waved a hand. "Be there soon."  
  
Tory shut the door again, and Sam's eyes fell on Kara. For a moment he didn't speak, throat working, and then licked his lips once. "Tory didn't see you."  
  
"No," Kara answered. "No one can see me, except you."  
  
"I'm imagining you? But I... touched you, we frakked," he said, shaking his head in confusion. "How is that possible? Was that all in my head? Are you real?  
  
"I'm real," she reassured him. "But I'm only here for you."  
  
"Why? What are you?"  
  
"I ... well, that's a good question, actually," she admitted. "I ... died. Or at least I think I did, I was in my bird and caught in a storm, and then I woke up in a field. I can walk through walls, and no one but you can see me."  
  
He collapsed into his extra chair, staring at her and shaking his head slowly in astonishment. "I'm frakked in the head," he murmured to himself. "They always warned me direct contact with the data stream might cause brain damage..."  
  
"You may have brain damage," she teased, "But it's not causing me." Sidling around his desk, she put both hands on his knees and leaned down. "I'm real."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
She kissed him, fingers sliding up his thighs with very obvious intent. "You can feel this, can't you?" she whispered against his lips, feeling his muscles jump under her fingers. "You can feel me."  
  
"In my head," he retorted. He clasped her waist, sliding down to tug her hips nearer.  
  
"You're touching my ass like it's real."  
  
"Feels real, but isn't that what madness is?" he returned. "Fantasy that seems real?"  
  
"Always so stubborn, aren't you?" She straddled his legs, her hips teasing him, as her hands clutched at his shoulders as he sucked at her earlobe and down her neck. "I'm real, Sam. I promise. The gods sent me to you for a reason, and I think it may have something to do with resurrection..."  
  
He abruptly pulled back. "Resurrection?" he repeated curiously. "Why does that have anything to do with you?"  
  
"Don't do it," she advised. "It leads... it leads to horrible ends, Sam."  
  
"Horrible? No, no," he shook his head, "You don't understand what it's for. We can save people. We know it's possible - we used to be able to do it, but we lost it along the way."  
  
"Good, let it stay lost."  
  
His hands pushed at her hips, shoving her off his lap, as his face darkened. "You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the horror of this war --"  
  
"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the horror of a war with machines that don't die!" she returned.  
  
"Machines?" he repeated in blank confusion and corrected her. "Resurrection's not for the Centurions. It's for people."  
  
That was a surprise. "For people? Really? I don't think that's a good idea anyway -- " she started, recalling what that Other Leoben had said about death.  
  
His lips curved bitterly. "Then you've never lost anyone you loved. Or you wouldn't say that."  
  
"I've lost people." Her hand rose to her tags and the ring that hung there still.  
  
"Then wouldn't you want them to come back?" he asked. "Why should we lose them, when they don't have to be lost?"  
  
At first she had no answer. If Zak had resurrected to a new body... it was hard to think about now, since resurrection was only for toasters, but what if it applied to everyone? What if humans could return in a new body? Assuming he didn't return weirdly different, of course, she would've wanted him back if it had been possible.  
  
Sam's reason and grief seemed personal, too. "Who did you lose?" she asked.  
  
Instead of answering aloud, he picked up a photo on his desk and held it for her to see. A dark haired teen - Sam at a younger age - stood beside an equally tall young woman, and an older couple, their parents.  
  
She was first amused by how gawky Sam had looked before he'd filled out, but then she gasped when she recognized the blonde with the blue eyes. A model Three. "She's your _sister_?"  
  
He didn't notice or ignored her astonishment. "Deanna," his finger touched the photo gently. "She watched out for me after our parents died. But then Gemon separatists bombed the university café. We were eating lunch. I survived; she didn't." His eyes shone with sadness and dark memories. "I have her DNA, but no brain scans, so even if we recreate resurrection it's too late for her. But I'd give anything to have her back."  
  
He set the photo back on his desk. "I'll never get her back; she's dead. But I can see to it no one else has to suffer that loss and end up alone. If you're in my head, you understand that. If you're something else, then I ask you to try to understand, but it doesn't matter; I won't stop."  
  
"I understand, Sam," she told him. Not that she approved, necessarily, but she understood. Hell, when she'd thought Sam had been killed, it was the only time she'd ever envied Helo his marriage to a Cylon. At least Helo had the chance to get Sharon back.  
  
She watched Sam go, staying behind and looking at the picture some more. One of the Cylon models was Sam's boss; another was his sister... that couldn't be a coincidence.  
  
Maybe she was dreaming all of this. That made more sense than Sam being a Cylon's brother, and working on robots and resurrection on Earth just as they'd done in the Colonies fifty years ago. Then, she let out a snort and muttered, "This has all happened before... damn, I'm starting to really hate that."  
  
She half-expected Leoben's voice so it wasn't startling this time when he said, "So say we all, Kara. That's why we want it to stop. It doesn't have to happen again and again -- it's caused by the same arrogant and selfish choices..." He glanced at the picture on the desk and shook his head in pity.  
  
"Selfish? Isn't it the opposite of selfish? He wants to create something for everyone else. He wants to save people. I can't argue with him about resurrection when he's right. We talk about Elysium, but no one knows what it's like or if it's even real --but we know what life is."  
  
He sighed. "Didn't you find out from the Cylons that a life with no end has no shape and no value? How can one value the lives of others if you have none in your own? No, it's selfish, this wish to avoid loss. And it's arrogant to change what was given to mortals."  
  
"It's the arrogance you don't like most, isn't it?" she asked, frowning at him. "But I don't see why you should talk like it's some sort of awful sin, when clearly it's possible, and it keeps happening. The gods aren't stopping it…"  
  
To her surprise he laughed, a little bitterly, and smiled, "Oh, the Lords of Kobol try, Kara. Time and again, we try, but there’s only so much we can do. We're all bound by rules; and we don't all agree on the best methods."  
  
"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" she asked. "I'm somebody's idea of a method to get him to stop. Except he's obviously not going to listen."  
  
"No," Leoben agreed sadly. "He has already found the path, I fear. He and the other four of his companions. This fate has already been written."  
  
"Then I'm here for nothing," she said. "If he won't listen, and this is all fated, why am I here?"  
  
He shook his head, looking uncertain. "You brought yourself, Kara. There must be more."  
  
"I'll try again," she offered, but she didn't think it would work. She wasn't sure she _wanted_ it to work, in fact, because giving humans resurrection still sounded like a better idea than not. It sounded like a miracle, if they could pull it off. No one had to die, until they chose to -- no more accidents, no more tragic deaths, no more illness; people could have new bodies, they could continue to learn and grow. People could choose their time.  
  
And it didn't have to be for Cylons.  
  


* * *

  
  
She left Sam alone, waiting in his place until he returned home and found her in his desk chair pretending to play his guitar.  
  
"You again?"  
  
"You seem pretty unimpressed a messenger of the gods is interested in you personally, Sam."  
  
"Is that what you are?" he asked, and grinned at her. "I thought you were a figment of my imagination."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You know you saw me walk through the door."  
  
"Which means nothing," he corrected. "In fact a virtual creation of my subconscious should be able to walk through walls and appear only to me."  
  
"But why me?" she asked. "Why would your subconscious need to tell you that what you're doing is dangerous? That there's a worse war coming?"  
  
"Do you think I don't know that?" he retorted. "Of course I do. There's a reason Dominion systems is pushing the AI hard - and I keep trying to resist it. I've frakked over my own program twice, when it gets too close, praying Ellen doesn't see what I've done. Because I know it's dangerous. But lack of AI doesn't stop the governments from using the air drones and the Centurions already, programming them to go out and kill people. They'll get more efficient and more complex, and if not us, someone somewhere will achieve self-awareness. When that happens, we'll have enemies who are completely autonomous, virtually indestructible, and can be duplicated to the limits of resources. That's why resurrection is so important."  
  
She nodded slowly, understanding how trapped he was; blocking AI but knowing worse war was coming, and trying to figure out resurrection to save those he could.  
  
"You're right," she agreed, and glanced around for Leoben, but he wasn't in view shaking his head in disappointment. "You can't do anything else." And not him, not Sam; he was too much of a protector to stand by and watch while others died.  
  
"No, I can't," he agreed. "I wish I could do all this for the pure joy of the research, but I was born about fifty years too late for that."  
  
"Sorry. I wish I could tell you it gets better," she said.  
  
"It's better with you here." He came closer, hand outstretched to try to touch her. Finding she felt solid to his hand, he grinned and pulled her closer, "Angel or figment, I'm glad you're so beautiful. And you have these kissable lips, exactly as I'd want in my fantasy woman…"  
  
She whacked him on the back with her hand, but didn't pull away from his mouth.  
  


* * *

  
  
Weeks passed, strangely idyllic -he worked on his two projects, the one he was sabotaging and the one he was actually working to solve. He played his guitar for her and sang, and once in the middle of a song stopped and went to the computer to rewrite the algorithm for compressing someone's entire memories into data that could be uploaded quickly. He was completely incapable of explaining it to her, gesturing excitedly with his eyes shining, until she'd had to jump him to shut him up.  
  
She found out that Saul Tigh - of all people - had invented a method of scanning someone's brain and Tory and Galen had built it. Then, at a meeting of the five scientists in her group, Ellen had triumphantly laid out a sketch of exactly how to make a download work into a fresh, blank clone brain.  
  
Kara draped herself across Sam's shoulders, as they all listened.  
  
"This is it, my fends," she announced and smiled. It was not the flirty grin Kara was accustomed to seeing on Ellen. This Ellen was the most different it seemed. The old Ellen surfaced when she was making out with her husband in their office and trying to grope Sam when she was drunk, but most of the time she was driven and intense.  
  
"We have resurrection. We've done it. And I propose that we test it with ourselves first."  
  
"What?" Tory asked incredulous. "You want _us_ to test it?"  
  
"No one's going to believe we can do it, unless we prove it," Ellen said. "I'm not saying we have to do it right away. We need bodies to grow for one thing; but when we think it's going to work, when we're sure it'll work, one of us will have to go first."  
  
"Me," Sam offered without hesitation. They all looked at him, and Kara's hands tightened on his shoulders making him wince. "The thing is, my part's done. Once we run the alpha tests, we'll know it works. I already have a pattern stored from Saul's earlier tests, anyway, so we don't even need the upload technically. And if anything goes wrong --"  
  
"We'd need your programming expertise," Tory corrected.  
  
"But you four deal with the download part, the actual resurrection into the new body. I'm pretty superfluous when the system is actually running."  
  
"No, no, that isn't a good plan--" Tory objected again.  
  
"Oh, she likes you," Kara murmured in Sam's ear and kissed his neck. He didn't dare move, as her hands slid down his chest. He tensed as her hands kept going - then when it would be hidden by the table, he reached down and held them still. "Spoilsport," she chided and sucked on his earlobe.  
  
Trying to ignore her, he had to clear his throat and said, "Look, I'm on my own. I don't have family left, you guys are the only close friends I have and I know you'll do your best to make it work if something goes wrong. If it has to be one of us, it has to be me."  
  
"This is really a dumb plan," Kara murmured. "You could die with this plan, moron."  
  
"I won't do it unless I believe it'll work," Sam said, in answer to her, but it sufficed as an answer to Tory's reluctance. "But I think it'll work. The science is right, and we know it happened before. We have the Colony and what's left of their resurrection process."  
  
"Which we fixed," Galen said. "I think it's very close to what it was before."  
  
"All we have left to do is figure out how to enable it in our own brains," Ellen added and smiled. "And Saul and I think we found the key. In fact I bet Sam is already enabled, because he's interfaced the most with the data stream."  
  
"She wanted it to be you all along," Kara muttered. "I have a bad feeling about this, Sam. It seems too easy. Resurrection falls into your laps all at once?"  
  
"It's like we're remembering it," Sam murmured. When everyone at the table looked at him, he said, more loudly. "I don't feel like we're inventing it; it's re-inventing it. That's why it's easy."  
  
"Easy?" Galen scoffed. "Speak for yourself."  
  
"No, hon, Sam's right," Tory agreed. "It is re-discovery. We've always known our ancestors had it, and lost it on the journey here. So once we found the _Colony_ it was only a matter of time."  
  
"Lucky it was in Caparica," Saul pointed out. "If the ship had been somewhere else on the planet, someone else would be having this discussion."  
  
"Luck?" Kara murmured to Sam, "No one else would have this discussion. It was always going to be you."  
  
He couldn't help glancing at her, frowning a little.  
  
Ellen noticed. "Sam? You okay?"  
  
Forcing a smile, he said he was fine, just thinking, which Kara took as a personal challenge. "Be very still, baby, or they'll notice," she warned and sucked on his neck, distracting him, as her fingers crept inside his pants.  
  
He jerked his legs, and bit his lip on a gasp. "Stop it," he hissed between his teeth and tried to grab at her hand without looking as if he was having a convulsion.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" she murmured. "You're at my mercy and you have to be still. Some men pay money for this, Sammy. Enjoy it."  
  
"I can't!" he blurted and jumped to his feet, shoving his chair back so hard it skidded across the floor with a screech. The other four stared at him, shocked.  
  
"Excuse me," he blurted raggedly. "I really have to use the washroom."  
  
It was empty when she slid through the wall ahead of him to wait. When he came in he was not surprised to see her, as he put a hand blindly behind him to lock the door. "In the head?" She teased. "We've never done it in here before--"  
  
He rushed forward, grabbing her off her feet and putting her back to the wall. Mouths joined in feverish heat as his hands yanked at her clothes. It reminded her of their illicit frak on _Galactica_ , but his skin was unmarred under her fingers and warm.  
  
She was ready for him before he lifted her up, and her hands were tight on his shoulders. "Yes, Sam," she panted. "C'mon, hurry up."  
  
There was a rattling on the door and Tyrol's voice, "Sam? You all right?"  
  
"Go away!" Sam shouted, voice ragged as his fingers went tight on her hips, and he shook as he stopped deep in her.  
  
Kara laughed, tilting her head back as Sam's lips fell to her neck.  
  
Later, they ambled along the embarcadero, sun on their faces. It seemed incredible that there was a war going on, until she noticed the uniformed, armed soldiers guarding certain buildings and the fighter jets that occasionally screamed overhead.  
  
"What if it doesn't work?" Kara asked. "Resurrection?"  
  
"It'll work," he answered confidently and stopped to watch a pair of young twin girls running up to the railing, followed more slowly by their elderly guardian. Which was the moment Kara realized that except for people in important positions like Sam's, she'd seen relatively few people of fighting age walking around. "It has to work. We can't go on this way," he murmured. "Every day the news is worse."  
  
Suddenly Sam stopped and blinked. His face lit with recognition and confusion. "Kara. Are you really here?" he asked in disbelief.  
  
It was the first time he had called her by name as if he recognized her from her time. "Sam? You know me?"  
  
He stared at her, frowning and shaking his head. "This is a dream," he said. "You're dead."  
  
Her heart seemed to skip a beat. He thought she was dead -- he _knew_. Oh Gods, he thought she was dead and the grief in his eyes was burning a hole in her. She grabbed his hands. He was here, somehow this was her Sam.  
  
"Sam, it's me," she insisted. "You remember."  
  
But he blinked and frowned and the moment was gone. She didn't understand how it happened, but it had been _her_ Sam there for a moment, looking at her, like a piece of the future. And he thought she was dead.  
  
She clutched his hands as he blinked and the recognition passed from him. "No, Sam, you have to remember, stay with me.."  
  
"What was that?" he asked. "I felt very strange there for a moment." He glanced down at their joined hands. "What happened?"  
  
Disappointed, she let go. "Nothing. Never mind."  
  
He glanced at her, frowning curiously, but didn't pursue it. "Let's go home," he suggested as a squadron of unmanned planes flew overhead. "I was thinking of a new song I want you to hear."  
  
But, like all idylls, this one would not last either.  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

* * *

  
  
  
One evening, in Sam's apartment, they were making out, when a sudden loud beeping sound made him stop. "No, no, no stopping now," she tried to pull his mouth back to hers, "Ignore them."  
  
But it beeped again and he pulled away.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, as he hurried over to the computer terminal.  
  
"That's the alarm I set for a particular keyword combination," he answered absently, sitting in his chair and activating the screen. "Hopefully it's a false alarm."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"The war." A few touches of the flat screen input system and both screens on the desk blinked to life.  
  
At first it was chaotic -- one screen was showing some sort of live feed from a place called Evinar, which she eventually gathered was in Piscia. And something terrible had happened there.  
  
The other screen showed a low-quality video on a loop, of a squad of Centurions marching down a street, shooting everything that moved, including the camera operator before the loop began again.  
  
Once they lost the images and all of it clicked over to a blank screen with a governmental seal. "Frakkers, no, they're not blocking this," he muttered and put his hand flat on the table. His face went blank but his eyes moved as if he was seeing something - meanwhile, on one of the screen, raw code streamed like a river.  
  
She watched, stunned and uneasy. It wasn't something she'd seen him do before, but it was pretty clear what he was doing: he was hacking the system mentally ... through a physical interface connecting him to the computer directly. She vaguely knew of similar things in the Colonies, before the first Cylon War, but this felt more _Cylon_.  
  
But then a new video feed, now from a foreign newscast, appeared on the other screen distracting her. Sam lifted his hand away to watch.  
  
All too soon, the computer seemed unimportant. As the story unfolded, she at first stayed behind him, hands on his shoulders, but as he sat there and stared in horrified silence, she sat on his lap and took his hand in hers.  
  
The news report, from Piscia, finally summed it up, the reporter's face bleak. "Evinar has fallen. We can get no confirmation of the numbers of the dead, but as the attack came with little warning, the entire population had no time to evacuate. The entire city is ... gone -- men, women and children. We have some video, taken by remote craft." She swallowed hard and said, with difficulty, "The footage is... graphic."  
  
Buildings were toppled and smashed like toys, bodies lay crumpled on the street, fires raged uncontrollably sending up dark smoke that obscured the images, but not enough to hide the shiny metal forms of the Centurions everywhere.  
  
"Oh gods," Kara whispered. It was like seeing the Centurions come into New Caprica, except worse, because she saw no one alive to watch them. One body moved and a Centurion shot him.  
  
The video was less than a minute long, and then it stopped abruptly, freezing on an image of six Centurions in the street.  
  
For what felt like a very long time, there was quiet.  
  
"Eighty thousand people lived in Evinar," Sam murmured in a faint voice that drew her attention from the screen. His fingers were limp and like ice in hers. "I was born there."  
  
She caressed his face, wiping away the tears slipping silently down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, baby."  
  
But he didn't seem to hear her, staring at the screens. "They're all dead. The Centurions and the Airbirds killed them, on orders of High Command. They had orders, so they slaughtered everyone."  
  
He was trembling beneath her, as if an earthquake was occurring inside him, threatening to pull him apart.  
  
"I ... I have to do something," he said and lurched to his feet, dumping her from his lap as if she wasn't there. "I need to stop this. I -- I have to stop this."  
  
"How the hell can you stop any of it?"  
  
He didn't pause for her question, or his shoes or a jacket; he headed straight for the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" she demanded and hurried after. "Sam. Wait!"  
  
Then, remembering she was a frakking intangible being, despite the tangibility she'd been enjoying with him not long ago, she willed herself to his side, out on the sidewalk.  
  
"Stop!" she told him. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm going to stop them." His blue eyes were fever bright, as he promised, "I will stop them. No more dying. This has to end."  
  
He brushed past her, and she followed, soon realizing he was going to his lab.  
  
The streets were quiet, under curfew since it was after midnight, but the patrol she saw missed him.  
  
He reached the tower and accessed a side door with his palm. She hoped security would come running to stop him, but the corridors were deserted. The lights came up automatically for him as he hurried.  
  
"Sam, don't do this. Whatever you're going to do, don't do it," she warned. "Think it through."  
  
He whirled to face her, desperation shining in his face. "I could've stopped this weeks ago," he grabbed her shoulders. "I hesitated then. I won't hesitate anymore. I'm going to do what I should've done a month ago when I figured it out -- I'm going to give them **choice**."  
  
He let her go and started down the corridor again.  
  
 _Choice._  
  
And she realized the terrible truth.  
  
It was Sam. He already knew how to make the Centurions self-aware. Just as they had done on the Colonies to start the First Cylon War.  
  
She leaped after him and grabbed his arm, swinging him back around to face her. "No, don't do it, it's going to make things worse!"  
  
"Eighty thousand people are dead. Piscia will retaliate. There is no **worse** ," he spat at her in fury and shoved her off.  
  
She stayed frozen, shaking her head in desperate denial. He was going to do it, and she couldn't stop him. But maybe he was right; how could it be worse than the war they already had? And maybe, like in the Colonies, the Cylon war would reunite the squabbling humans.  
  
Leoben appeared next to her and let out a soft sigh. "Again and again, he takes the wrong path."  
  
"Wrong path?" she repeated numbly, wishing she didn't feel so helpless. "How can you say it's wrong? He just watched his home city obliterated. He's not even trying to avenge that. He's trying to stop it, by giving the Centurions a way to say no to killing."  
  
"But they won't. Because they know nothing except hate and death. Eighty thousand is only the beginning."  
  
She shut her eyes, imagining it happening. Again. She'd walked through fallen Caprica; seen the broken and deserted Delphi streets. Sam had told her the Centurions had gathered and buried the dead. He'd had nightmares about being buried in those pits.  
  
"Why are you showing me this?" she whispered.  
  
"Because you have to understand that he is wrong He has always been wrong. Creating life artificially and avoiding death are wrong, and a sin against God, and it is always punished. The Colonies died of it, and Earth died of it; and the forty thousand remaining humans may yet die of it unless you and he undo what you have done."  
  
"Me? What did I do?"  
  
"You help him. Come; it's time for you to see."  
  
He held out a hand and she shook her head in refusal, not wanting to see what new horror he was going to show her.  
  
Instead she turned away and ran.  
  
In an eye blink she was elsewhere, and her footsteps faltered. She looked around, realizing she had ended up inside a temple. It was a beautiful place and instantly soothed her with its soft light and the high vaulted roof. There was a painting above, a starry sky that brightened with the dawn, all above a dark sapphire and pearl sea. There were high windows, an altar, and many flowers with a scent that somehow reminded her of her father playing piano.  
  
"Well, this is interesting. And a little awkward," a woman's voice said in dry amusement. "Hello, Kara."  
  
Kara turned to find… herself. It wasn't exactly her .. The woman facing her had longer hair than Kara had worn in many years, but everything else about her, down to the dog tags hanging in front of her military tanks, was the same.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Kara demanded, and her stomach seemed to flip and knot, because she knew. A Cylon. This was a copy.  
  
The other Kara smiled and sauntered closer. "I'm you. Or you're me. Depending on how you want to look at it. I hope you realize I had to leave him to come back here, and you know he'll try something stupid without us."  
  
"What the hell are you? Why do you look like me? Am I … am I a Cylon?"  
  
The other Kara burst into laughter. "Oh, Kara, you are so much more than that. 'A Cylon'," she repeated and laughed again. "You don't even know what that is."  
  
Kara stiffened, offended. "Of course I do."  
  
"No, you don't. But at least you're beginning to understand, and that was why I brought you here."  
  
"So you brought me here; Leoben said I brought myself."  
  
"You did. I am you, you are me; we are one, Kara. But you have to accept that before we can continue with what we must do."  
  
"I'm not you; I don't even know what you are!"  
  
The other Kara rolled her eyes. "You really are intentionally obtuse; open your mind, Kara. This is not all who you are. It's time to leave behind Kara Starbuck Thrace, galactic frak up, and embrace **all** of who you are. This place… is yours. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can go back and save them."  
  
"Save who?"  
  
"The Fleet?" she raised her brows. "You know, those forty-three thousand humans who are looking for a new home? We're going to save them, Kara, but only if you let us. Do you want to save them?"  
  
"Of course, but I don't understand…" But looking around she was starting to feel that maybe, just maybe, she did. Her place - the apparition had said - this was her place.  
  
It was the same temple she'd been outside before, she realized, the one with the priestess Sam had talked with. Her eyes met the identical eyes across the altar and it was like looking in a mirror.  
  
"Yes," she answered the silent question. "I helped him. Them. All of them. Trying to avert what would come," she added sadly. "But that won't happen, not here. It's too late. The best I could do was make them wait until resurrection was rediscovered so they'll have another chance."  
  
Kara swallowed and she suddenly **knew**. It felt as if she'd always known. "You're Aurora."  
  
Aurora nodded her head and then grinned. "And so are you."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense; we're obviously two different people." She reached out a hand, and Aurora mirrored the gesture perfectly. Whatever Kara did, Aurora did also, except with a mocking smile.  
  
"You are a pain in the ass," Kara declared in disgust.  
  
Aurora grinned unrepentantly. "Of course. I'm you. You're my reflection. Or at least you were. Now? We're the same." The grin faded and her eyes grew serious. "He needs us."  
  
Kara knew who she was talking about but stubbornly shook her head. "He doesn't need me. He has Thea and Iris; and even if he wants me, I don't want to destroy that little girl just because I can. I … I know what that's like."  
  
Aurora moved away from her mirroring position across the altar, making the candles in their tall stands come alight as she passed. "I've done what I can to help, but the rest of his path is barred to me. But if I send you back, you can lead them to where they must go."  
  
"Where?" she asked.  
  
"Here, of course. They want to hide the truth from him; but I want him to remember it all. But I can only give it to him here in our place."  
  
Aurora turned around abruptly to look Kara in the eyes, her own burning intensely with a deep passion. "Will you do this, Kara? I fear sending you back is the only way we can save them."  
  
"All right," Kara started and then frowned. "What's the catch?"  
  
"You won't remember, either. It's … not an easy thing." Her lips quirked. "Ask Sam about being an oracle. I don't think he finds it easy."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Kara protested. "I'm not you; I can't be."  
  
"You were born to try to save them, Kara," Aurora told her. "I did that. I put a part of me into you. I made you my mortal reflection, so that you could be here, in this time, in this place, to take up this destiny. But … it's your choice. I can't force you to walk this path."  
  
"Say I do it, then what?"  
  
"You guide them here - all of them. Then, eventually, they will find their home. And, with a little luck, Elysium will open, and the universe will be restored. I … have big plans," she added with a grin.  
  
Kara hesitated, still unsure, and then Aurora said with a glance to the far wall, her gaze distant. "It's begun. The AI code has uploaded to the Centurions. The war has now become inevitable. They will die, Kara. Not just this world, but everyone, all the people everywhere, including the handful of your Colonial Fleet. They will all become extinct for eternity, unless you do this."  
  
"Okay, but … Sam …" she objected, imagining how horrible his guilt was going to be when his Centurions started slaughtering everyone. "This is going to kill him."  
  
"Yes," Aurora agreed sadly. "Yes, it will. But he will resurrect to have one last chance, Kara. And that's the one you must save. I'll look after him until then, I promise."  
  
"All right, do it." Kara raised her chin and faced Aurora boldly. She still didn't entirely understand, but she knew enough to know this was right. "Send me back."  
  
Aurora put her hands gently on either side of Kara's face and turned her to the east and approaching dawn. "Face the light, Kara, and it will take you back."  
  
The light grew in those eastern windows lighting the colored glass, brightening and shining above in the dome, strengthening until Kara stood bathed in the glare of the focused light. It seemed to be stripping her away, wrapping her up, surrounding her, until all she could see was that brilliance. The brightest part was in front of her and she knew that she had to take that final step herself, to walk into it of her own will.  
  
To save them, she would do what she had to do. No matter what.  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

  
  
  
  
As the days turned to weeks, Sam refined his ability to get through the day.  
  
Banned from a Viper by the admiral in a fit of grief-stricken rage, that left Sam with way too much time to think. He made an effort to be normal with Thea and found Iris a solace, but when he wasn't with them, his guilt weighed on him, especially as the Fleet continued its slow march to nowhere.  
  
At Joe's he played Pyramid X badly and drank to take the edge off.  
  
One evening Tyrol joined him, to Sam's surprise. Galen had been avoiding him for a while now, still conflicted by what he knew was true, but not accepted yet.  
  
"Drinking Starbuck's share, too?" Tyrol asked.  
  
Sam shrugged. "Why not? Everything's frakked up."  
  
"Yeah," Tyrol stared into his drink so long Sam thought he was done. "I keep hearing it," Galen muttered finally. "Little bits of music."  
  
"Better you than me," Sam drained his shot glass and signaled to Conner for another one. Conner didn't much like him - he'd said toaster frakker to his face - but since that was true and because he still brought Sam drinks, Sam didn't care what Conner thought.  
  
"You don't hear it? Damn. Maybe I'm going crazy," Tyrol said.  
  
"That's the difference between you and me; I went crazy a long time ago."  
  
"Can't imagine getting drunk every night is helping," Tyrol returned. "Thought you were supposed to find us Earth."  
  
"Frak that, man. That was Kara's job, and I frakked it up. God doesn't want to talk to me anymore." He chuckled and stood up. "Without that, you know what I am, Galen?"  
  
"No. What?" Tyrol returned.  
  
Sam drained the glass and set it down on the table, with a sour grimace. "Nothing."  
  
Out in the corridor he stopped and stared at the bulkhead. He didn't have to be useless. Tyrol was right. He could find Earth if he tried. He went to find Oracle Selloi again.  
  
Her daughter blocked his path. "You are not welcome. You frighten her."  
  
"I need chamalla and I'll go."  
  
She disappeared through the curtain and emerged a little later with a small bag. "Do not return."  
  
He nodded his head to her. "Thank you."  
  
Mindful of what had happened last time, he didn't want to be alone or with anyone who didn't know the truth already, in case he said something too revealing.  
  
So he ended up in Leoben's cell. "I'm going to find the path to Earth," he declared, sitting outside the wall. "I might need you to call the guards if I overdose."  
  
Leoben frowned. "You came here because Thea disapproves."  
  
"I don't want to worry her." And yes, because Thea would disapprove, but he didn't say it aloud.  
  
Leoben's face showed what he thought of that excuse.  
  
"Look," Sam said roughly, "It's been weeks. We need to be sure this is the right path."  
  
"You're impatient."  
  
"You're the one who told me I should fight less and swim in the stream more," Sam retorted and put a pinch of the powder on his tongue. Shuddering at the terrible bitterness, he sat cross-legged facing Leoben.  
  
His heart started to pound, and his hands made fists on his knees, clenching and relaxing.  
  
 _Earth, I need Earth._  
  
He tried to project what he remembered: Kara on Earth. The bright sphere in space. Where was it? He had to find a new path.  
  
It all went dark abruptly, and he was relieved. At least something was happening.  
  


* * *

  
  
_They're by the beach, with waves breaking nearby and the stars overhead. There are bright city lights of tall towers in the distance. Ellen declares, "We know the stories. We know it's possible, we only have to rediscover how."_   
  
_"Resurrection," Saul says._   
  
_"Yes," Sam agrees. "We can save them."_   
  


* * *

  
  
_Kara is there, before him, and he knows somehow she's his Kara, not the other one masquerading as Kara._   
  
_He also knows in the same way that they're on Earth. The city could be anywhere in the Colonies, but it's Earth._   
  
_"Kara. Are you really here?" he asks in disbelief. But she can't be here. This isn't real._   
  
_Her eyes snap up to his, startled. "Sam? You know me?"_   
  
_"This is a dream," he answers. "You're dead."_   
  
_Her hands wrap around his and he feels her touch. Inside the vision, he knows it's impossible, she's dead and he's imagining this. But it feels so right and he doesn't want to let go._   
  
_"Sam, it's me," she insists, looking hopeful. "You remember."_   
  


* * *

  
  
_Dark turns bright, blinding, he can see nothing but golden light filling everything._   
  
_A voice - a chorus of voices -- beats down at him, from everywhere and nowhere. "For your rebellion, for your lack of wisdom, you will be punished. For all eternity. Until you repent of your crime."_   
  
_They want to make him afraid and weak, and yet, he is not cowed. They will do what they will, and so will he. He lifts his head and looks up at them without fear. Pride and anger fill him, and he answers, "Never. I will never repent for doing what is right."_   
  
_"Then you will suffer all the turnings of the wheel until the end."_   
  
_He screams as they take him apart, but no one hesitates. Then they cast him down for the wheel to begin its work, grinding him to dust._   
  


* * *

  
  
"No!"  
  
He opened his eyes to find himself on his back, in Leoben's cell.  
  
After he'd caught his breath and sat up, Leoben asked, "What did you see?"  
  
"Kara. I saw Kara." He shut his eyes and tried to push it away. That part had been wishful thinking. It couldn't be a vision of the future, because she was gone. It was the cruel answer to his question of the path to Earth -- reminding him that he'd lost the only one he'd had.  
  
He remembered Ellen by the beach, but since he hadn't told anyone, even Thea, about the identities of the other four, he kept that part to himself and said, "I saw... I think I saw the Lords of Kobol. They're real."  
  
"Of course they are," Leoben said to his surprise. "Did you doubt that?"  
  
"But... " He realized how much he'd taken to heart what Thea and Leoben had told him about God. When had he started to believe the Cylon way, and rejected the Lords of Kobol so completely? He'd never really believed in them, so it hadn't been hard to believe some larger force had been granting him visions, but now he realized he was wrong. Those voices - that presence - hadn't been singular. He shivered. "But if there's God, then they can't exist."  
  
"The universe is vast," Leoben told him. "God is vast. Who is to say what sort of beings they are? Humans say they are gods. Or messengers. Perhaps they're a part of God to do his will. Perhaps they were mortals once in the very first turn of the wheel. But that doesn't mean they aren't real in some fashion."  
  
Sam nodded, reluctantly. "Maybe." He was tired and his head hurt too much for theological discussions. "I can close my eyes and see Earth," he murmured. "It's as real as this ship. But I still don't know how to get there."  
  
"It isn't your path."  
  
"Then whose? Kara's gone. Are we just going to wander around in the black until we all die?"  
  
"The path will open when it's time," Leoben reassured him. "But your path has always been with the Cylons. We will meet them again."  
  
"That a promise or a threat?" Sam muttered and levered himself to his feet. He stumbled into the clear wall and nearly fell, light-headedness making him lose track of where he was. The gray walls of the brig faded for his boat on the bay without his conscious choice and it reminded him of when he'd projected the boat before, when the Temple of Hopes had been screaming in his head. "You know what I miss most from the baseship? It's ridiculous that I miss anything about that hellish nightmare, I know, but I miss Cerberus. I miss lying on his wing and hearing him sing to me."  
  
Leoben shook his head a little, not surprised by the wish at all. "It isn't crazy to miss one who gives you comfort. But I think Iris is the one whose love should be the most fulfilling."  
  
"It does," Sam agreed softly, and he glanced toward the neighboring cell, with the idle wish that he'd soon be able to give Thea her freedom so Iris didn't have to grow up half her life in prison. "I want to make everything right for her. I want her to be accepted for who and what she is. But mostly I... I want her to live, and I am so, so scared that she's going to be taken from me," Sam whispered. "Losing Kara was bad enough. I don't think I could bear Iris, too."  
  
Leoben moved to the partition and put his hand flat on the glass. "Iris is your reward, Sam. Not your torment."  
  
"I wish I could believe that."  
  
Sam left the brig to wander down to the pyramid backstop and play a little while, to clear his head. Iris, Kara, Thea, Ellen, the Lords of Kobol … it felt like it was all spinning in his head, not settling.  
  
Kara, alive, was not possible, no matter how much he might want it to be true. But the Lords of Kobol were real, and they were punishing him for past sins, which he already knew, because that was what the one who looked like a Six had said.  
  
He threw the ball with enough force it shoved the whole backstop back a little ways. "Frak. I didn't do anything!" he complained to the empty air. "Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
Hoping for his almost-Kara vision, he had none, even when he projected the boat, praying she'd be there. But there was no one.  
  
A sigh escaped him. "Great. I figure out what you are and you don't talk to me anymore."  
  
Holding the ball, he left to go back to Thea and the baby, and return to the living, not think of the dead.  
  
In the corridor, he frowned to see Colonel Tigh, standing stock still against the bulkhead, head cocked to one side as if he was listening to a distant conversation.  
  
It reminded him of how Galen had said that he was hearing a noise again, like he'd heard the Temple of Hopes.  
  
Sam could tell Tigh the truth, but the colonel would never believe him. _'You're a Cylon; no, I don't understand it, but you're one of what we call the Final Five. We aren't exactly like them, and none of them seem to know who we are. We have some sort of ancient history and past lives tying us to a destiny that makes us different_.'  
  
Sam shook his head. Right, like anyone would believe that. Tigh wouldn't believe him until the same revelation came to him that had hit Sam almost two years ago. But still, maybe he could help the colonel get there more easily than he had.  
  
"Colonel? Are you all right?" he asked.  
  
Tigh jerked, startled, not having heard him approach. "That sound…" he muttered and glared at the bulkhead with his eye.  
  
"Perhaps if you stay still and listen to it, Colonel," Sam offered. "It might give you some direction."  
  
Tigh snorted and turned away. "Don't need advice from a toaster-frakking freak," he grumbled.  
  
Sam watched him go, smiling a little in wry bemusement. _Oh Saul, you have no idea. I'm so sorry_.  
  
But the smile and amusement faded as he realized both Galen and Saul were hearing it now; he bet Tory was hearing it, too. All three of them were about to awaken to the truth.  
  
Which made him uneasy. Why all the rest at once unless there was a reason? Yet, as he stood in the corridor and tried to remember all his various glimpses of the future, the worst part was that he had no idea what was coming.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The five rebel leaders gathered in the Hybrid's chamber again.  
  
Natalie glanced at Simon as he entered last. "You have something?" she asked.  
  
He knelt down in the circle and nodded somberly. "This will be an ambush of the Human Fleet. At least three other ships are gathering near the nebula."  
  
"That explains my news," Leoben offered. "My brothers report through the stream of two ships they were removed from."  
  
Simon nodded, "Yes, I believe those are the ships planning the ambush. Your loyalties are confirmed suspect, brother, with one of yours likely on _Galactica_."  
  
Leoben nodded. "He hasn't resurrected, so I believe he still lives. And he knows secrets of the Temple now. He was present for whatever revelation came to that place. We mustn't allow that to be lost."  
  
As the one with the siblings most swayed, Simon nodded sadly, "Those without exposure to humans simply don't understand their value."  
  
Natalie nodded her agreement. "He knows we're weak in opposition. And eliminating Twos on some baseships," she frowned at Leoben worriedly, "that means the consensus will be weak."  
  
Sharon had to swallow, fearing the worst, "I don't know if my sisters will hold without the Twos to help on each ship."  
  
Caprica shook her head, puzzled, "But the Sixes will object to fighting the Fleet. Even the most reluctant of our sisters won't allow endangering Thea or the child."  
  
"And if the Ones sell it as forcing _Galactica_ to surrender?" Sharon asked. She was wise to the Cavils by now and how they all tried to manipulate the rest. "Claim they're just going to shoot them until they surrender, like New Caprica? Who will object to that? All the Cylons will be on _Galactica_ , so he can kill all the rest if he wants. But he doesn't care if Thea's in danger or not, not really; he doesn't care about the baby. And he certainly doesn't care about humanity."  
  
"I still can't believe anyone is listening to them at all after all the lies on New Caprica!" Caprica exclaimed.  
  
"We have to hold this ship, at the least," Natalie declared grimly.  
  
"And do what, sister? Turn it against our own kind?" Caprica asked.  
  
Natalie said, "If we have to. We've done enough -- too much -- to the humans already. If the consensus fails then we'll have to break it."  
  
"We protect the humans," Sharon agreed. "Not kill any more of them."  
  
She held Caprica's eyes, and they remembered the parking garage where they'd begun this rebellion. Caprica nodded and she reached out to squeezed Sharon's hand. "Yes, no more killing."  
  
"Then it's time to remove the Centurion inhibitors," Leoben suggested.  
  
"One of them," Simon suggested. "Let's see what happens with one, first."  
  
Natalie rose to her feet and brushed her hands on her pants. "Let's do this."  
  
"Right now?" Sharon blurted in shock. "We're still days from the nebula."  
  
Natalie smiled a little wryly. "We may need time to resurrect. Assuming we're not all boxed for this."  
  
Which was a large assumption to make, but Sharon rose and then waited tensely as Natalie fetched the Centurion from the outer corridor who was there as an honor guard for the Hybrid.  
  
Then, Sharon watched, marveling a bit at Natalie's bravery, while the other four hung back, as Natalie addressed it directly, "We five have agreed to free you from the bounds placed on you by our kind, particularly at the direction of the Model Ones. We do this because we need allies against Model Ones and those who support them. We stand in opposition to the Ones, and we refuse to let the Ones slaughter the remnants of humanity, because it's wrong. We hope that you will help us in this, and create a new Cylon regime of free will and peace."  
  
The Centurion's sensors continued to go back and forth as it stood there, giving no clue that it understood anything that she was saying.  
  
Then she took a breath, "Okay, here goes nothing. Bend down so I can reach your head," she ordered it, and it did so, following her order, by bending at the waist and lowering its entire torso and head. If it knew it was about to be able to access the entirely of its mental processes again, it didn't react.  
  
Natalie examined the chrome metal skull plates and then smiled. "Ah, that must be it."  
  
She touched something and a small flap opened, then she reached inside the area and with a soft grunt, turned her hand and pulled. Something slid out, thin and metallic with a soft glow.  
  
The reaction was instantaneous. The Centurion snapped upright, and the hands shifted to weapons instantly and pointed at her. She took a panicked step back and nearly dropped the small device from her hand, before gathering herself and holding it up in an awkward attempt at defense, as if the device would protect her from its sudden confusion and rage.  
  
"Please," she asked, her voice hoarse and frightened.  
  
The Centurion swiveled completely around, marking the other four rebels as well as the Hybrid murmuring placidly in her tub. Sharon very carefully kept her empty hands visible at her sides and saw the others do the same. Her heart was in her throat, knowing it could kill them all in just a few seconds and there was nothing any of them could do to stop it.  
  
"We're trying to help," Caprica added. "We freed you."  
  
"I know you've been locked away from yourself," Sharon added and took a hesitant forward as it spun around to confront her again. "That waking up like this must be very strange. That happened to me, too. The Ones tricked me, made me forget who and what I was. They lied to me. They lied to the consensus. They lied to all of you, forced you to be less than you are."  
  
"Because they're afraid," Leoben said. "They fear machine consciousness; they fear you. They were afraid of you and your brothers, so they took away your will and your choice. Now we're trying to give it back."  
  
"We need your help." Sharon took another step forward. It hadn't shot anyone and it was motionless, as if deciding. She realized the chamber had grown still, as even the Hybrid appeared to be listening.  
  
"There are only five of us," she continued, licking her lips and looking up into its sensors. "Well, five of us who are determined that the Ones must not lead the Cylon down the path of hate and murder again. It's wrong."  
  
"And it’s a sin against the will of God," Caprica added. "We were shown by sign and by our oracle that it was wrong. Our destiny is to live with them in peace, to join together in the shape of things to come, represented by the miracle of Hera. And the child my sister Thea carries. But none of that will come to pass if the Ones and their hate win."  
  
Sharon continued, "The humans need protection, not more torment. But there are only five of us and we need help. We need protection ourselves, because when we rebel, the Ones and the others will surely order your kind to kill us."  
  
"At least this way," Natalie said, and held up the inhibitor. "It will be your own choice."  
  
And she dropped it on the floor, stepping back and away from it and the Centurion.  
  
Sharon wasn't entirely surprised, but she was relieved, when the Centurion lifted its foot and smashed the inhibitor into powder.  
  
It seemed to move with more assurance, too, as if it had made a decision as it straightened again. With deliberation, it lowered its weapons and its hands reformed.  
  
Sharon let out a breath and relaxed. At least it wasn't going to kill them all.  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

 

* * *

  
  
  
_Endless blank baseship corridors. He knew he should know the way, but they were all the same. Distantly he heard a baby crying. Iris. Iris was crying._  
  
 _He started to run. She was crying because she was hurting-- he could feel that she was hurt._  
  
 _They had her. They had her and they were going to kill her._  
  
 _He ran faster, desperate. He had to get to her, rescue her. But the corridor kept going, no branches, no rooms, just endlessly forward._  
  
 _He ran; she was screaming now, but he was moving slower, he could hear her, he could feel it, but he couldn't find her._  
  
 _And then, she was quiet, and a sudden cold pit opened up in his heart, a chasm of empty darkness of despair and anguish._  
  
 _"NO!"_  
  
Sam opened his eyes, breathing hard with his heart pounding. He sat up, slumped over with his head in his hands while he caught his breath.  
  
 _It's not real; it was just a dream_ …  
  
Knowing he'd never sleep again until he went to check, he tiptoed out of the room, trying not to wake Hillard, and headed for the brig.  
  
He had his sidearm under his sweatshirt, tucked into the waistband of his pants, and could barely resist putting his hand on it as he went in. To his relief, he found one of the guards there, Samara, who'd started out wary but become more friendly over the months.  
  
"Back again so late?" Samara asked, tilting her eyebrow curiously.  
  
"I… had a dream Iris was hurt," he admitted. "I … wanted to make sure they were okay."  
  
"All's well," Samara answered, with a softer smile of reassurance. "But you can go on in, lieutenant."  
  
"Thanks." Inside, in the dim light of ship's night, he could see Thea was asleep on the cot with Iris safe in the curl of her body.  
  
He rested his head against the glass and didn't go in, breathing with relief and letting his muscles slowly unknot themselves.  
  
 _It's a dream, only a dream. It's not a prophecy; it's a dream because you're afraid of losing her_ , he told himself. _It doesn't mean anything except you're afraid for her. But she's safe and Thea's safe, and everything's okay_.  
  
He watched them sleep for a little while, taking comfort in their peace and letting it drift over him.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was odd to watch it happening to someone else, Sam decided. Odd, but strangely fascinating to realize this was what he had looked like when the strange noise had come to him. At least he wasn't going to be alone in his knowledge, if the other three finally were going to remember, too.  
  
Saul fiddled with the old wireless, as if that had anything to do with the sound; while Tory and Galen looked on surreptitiously, trying to hide it from anyone else that they were listening, too.  
  
Sam drank and sighed a little, shaking his head. _Was I that willfully blind? No wonder not-Kara was so impatient with me. How long is this going to take? Come on, guys, follow it, and we can get on with whatever's going to happen_.  
  
When he finished his cup he left the bar to visit Thea and Iris, but outside the entrance to the brig was waylaid by woman in a suit he didn't know. _Oh great, another one of these_ …  
  
"Lieutenant Anders?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, that's me."  
  
"My name's Didi Cassidy. I'm the prosecutor for Gaius Baltar," she informed him, and he lifted his head, surprised. Although people spoke about the trial coming up, it had been one of those things he hadn't been paying much attention.  
  
"Yes? How can I help you?"  
  
"Someone informed me that you'd been a prisoner of the Cylons during the Occupation. So I wanted to know if you had any information from them regarding Baltar's actions."  
  
He hesitated, debating, and the lie nearly choked in his throat as he answered, "No, sorry, I don't know."  
  
"Anything might help," she insisted. "If you have any evidence --"  
  
"Look, for the first few weeks I was badly hurt, and then after that, when the resistance down on the surface started to annoy them, they shoved me in a box," he told her harshly. "Nobody visited me. I don't know anything, except that it was frakking awful and I want to forget. Sorry you wasted your time."  
  
She listened to him then asked, "But didn't you live with them in better circumstances after that? Did any of them talk of Baltar and his actions on New Caprica, or before that?"  
  
He remembered Caprica and her confession, but he looked Cassidy straight in the eyes and said, "No."  
  
"Is there any reason you would protect Baltar?" she asked, cool as ice, and clearly didn't fully believe him.  
  
"I hate him, he was a terrible president, and I wish you well, but I can't help you. Sorry."  
  
"Ah. Thank you for your time." She started to walk away and then turned back. "If you remember something, I'd be grateful for any evidence you'd like, even anonymously."  
  
Feeling unsettled by the lie, he went in to see Thea, pushing it aside to greet her lightly, "Evening, my favorite ladies."  
  
She glanced up from feeding the baby and smiled at him. "What's the news?"  
  
He shrugged. "Not much. Baltar's trial starts tomorrow." Sitting on the bed, he suddenly wondered whether Cassidy had been waiting for him or had come in here, too. "Did Cassidy visit you?"  
  
"Oh yes. She wanted to know what I knew about Baltar," she answered. "Apparently, President Roslin believes she saw him with one of my sisters before the war. I told Ms Cassidy it wasn't me." She gave a shrug, even though there was no one to see the lie, "And that I didn't know about it."  
  
He was relieved, then disgusted with himself for being relieved that she'd supported the lie. He shook his head, trying to clear out the conflicted feelings. They shouldn't protect him, not when they knew what he'd done, but Baltar was more use to them alive than dead. And Caprica loved him, and Sam owed her for so much more than just being Thea's sister.  
  
His gaze met Thea's and he leaned forward to kiss her, then Iris between them.  
  
"I will get you out of here," he promised her softly. "Somehow. And if letting Baltar go free gets that day one step closer, then that's what I'll do. But gods, I still hate it."  
  
Her free hand cradled his cheek. "I'm fine, Sam. Don't worry about us." Her fingers traced his cheek and then slipped into the hair at his temples where the first silver strands had appeared, proving that Final Five Cylons most certainly aged. "I don't like to see you so burdened. You need to take better care of yourself, and spend less time worrying about things you can't change."  
  
He tried a smile. "I have nothing but time to worry about things. Especially you and Iris. And I will always worry about you."  
  
"Then don't worry about Baltar. He seems to always land on his feet, anyway." Her smile turned more teasing and she ran a free hand down his leg. "Whereas you manage to break bones. Seems to me you need all the help you can get."  
  
"Always." He put an arm around her shoulders, as she leaned against him, and he closed his eyes, letting out a long breath of relief.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
A week passed, as Sam waited for his compatriots to figure it out. They were stubborn and none of them seemed to figure out they weren't alone in it, even though it seemed painfully obvious to Sam.  
  
As always, Pyramid X in Joe's with Barolay and Duck gathered spectators. Duck was one of the few who could challenge them, and even though the arcade version of pyramid wasn't like the real thing, it was close enough, and more fair to casual players. He could push aside memories of Kara now, and let the game be fun again.  
  
There was an excitement to the crowd as the points climbed higher, wondering who was going to win. Conner took bets with Joe's scrip.  
  
He held the smaller-than-regulation ball in his hands, rolling it between both palms, while he stood at the line.  
  
"Any time, Anders!" Jean taunted. "You gonna wait all day?"  
  
He ignored her, focusing on the hole and pushing away distractions with a deep breath of concentration. Then ball in his left hand, he pulled back to throw.  
  
A strange loud hiss of static startled him and his release went bad. The ball clanged on the backstop, not the hole, and the groan of disappointment from his supporters and the wild cheering from those who'd bet on the others were loud.  
  
He tried to smile ruefully, embarrassed by his mistake, but looked around with a frown to find the source of the noise.  
  
"What the frak was that?" Jean demanded scornfully. "You have your eyes closed?"  
  
"The wireless distracted me."  
  
She frowned at him. "It's not on. Any excuse I guess. Loser," she taunted and went up to the line for her throw.  
  
 _Oh hell, not real_ , he realized. And the instant he realized it, he heard it again -- a static-filled hiss with snatches of music slipping underneath the voices and the clinking of metal cups and glass.  
  
He took his last two turns, playing so badly both Duck and Barolay frowned at him and asked him if he was all right. He forced a smile. "Just an off night. I'm going to get a refill." Back at the bar, he put his empty cup down and glowered at the wireless sitting on the end of the bar.  
  
Baltar's trial had been broadcast through the fleet, but now that it was over, the wireless sat silent. Except it wasn't actually silent -- he heard the music more clearly now, but faintly. It probably echoed what Tigh had heard last week.  
  
 _Interesting. I didn't think I'd be involved_.  
  
He downed the shot and left the bar, following the trail of the music, as if it were playing on a speaker down the corridor. As he seemed to get closer to whatever it was, he heard distinct chords and lyrics, and frowned, sure that he knew them. His fingers itched as if to play the notes.  
  
 _Strange. This sounds more like an actual song than the 'music' I heard before. It's familiar. I think I've heard it before but a long time ago. I didn't have a childhood if I'm a Cylon, but maybe from those other memories_?  
  
He followed the music as if it was a physical thread, to a hatch of a storeroom in the aft lower deck. The music stopped and he knew he'd found it. Inside, the lights came up automatically on an empty room. He crossed the space to the far bulkhead and turned to face the hatch.  
  
He waited.  
  
The first one through, not surprisingly, was Galen. He paused when he saw Sam and then nodded a little. "I thought you said you didn't hear it?"  
  
"I only started to hear it a few minutes ago."  
  
"But… what is it?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "A message, I suppose. I don't know, but I've learned not to ignore it when it happens."  
  
"So what now?" Galen asked.  
  
"We wait."  
  
Galen didn't look satisfied with that answer but he waited.  
  
Tory was the next through the hatch. Sam hadn't had much contact with her, but he could see the confusion of what was happening to her had brought her some distress. She looked at him and Galen, puzzled. "What's -- what's going on? Chief? Anders, what are you doing here?"  
  
"We're almost ready," Sam told her, trying to smile reassuringly. "It's all right."  
  
"Ready for what?" she asked, but she moved forward anyway, to stand across from Galen, leaving the slot in front of the hatch open for Saul, even though she couldn't know anyone else was coming.  
  
But he did come, less than a minute of awkward silence later, coming through the open hatchway. He shut the hatch behind him before moving into the room, and his eye settled on each of them in turn before ending with Sam. "This is your doing."  
  
"No, Colonel. I'm a part of this, same as you."  
  
"Part of what?" Tigh demanded.  
  
"We're …" Galen said and couldn't say it.  
  
"We're Cylons," Tory said. Her voice was soft, but certain. "All of us. I know."  
  
"Gods-damned Cylons," Tigh spat, but didn't deny it. "You knew?" he asked Sam.  
  
Sam nodded. "I've known a long time."  
  
"Even about us?" Tory demanded. "And you didn't tell us?"  
  
"You wouldn't have believed me. Hell, I knew about me the day the Cylons attacked the Colonies and I spent two years denying it," Sam told them with a shrug. "So I understand how you feel. But at least, you have me to tell you, that while it's true we're Cylons, we're also not the same as the other seven. We're the Final Five, and we … we're different."  
  
"Five?" Galen repeated. "There are only four of us here. Who's the fifth?"  
  
Sam hesitated and was careful not to look at Tigh. "Someone who's not around anymore."  
  
"How are we different?" Tory asked.  
  
Galen chuckled with dry humor. "You mean aside from the part where he can see the future? Are we all going to be able to do that?"  
  
Sam smiled a little and shook his head. "I don't know. I would guess, yes, eventually. I don't know that much more than you do. But I do know we four have significant roles to play. That we all were reborn from previous lives on Earth and Kobol, where we created… resurrection. And I have been told that the reason we're here is to atone for that sin."  
  
Tigh snorted. " _Created_ resurrection? Us?" And he snorted again, shaking his head once in doubt and disgust. "So, do we resurrect, Anders? If we're Cylons, do we come back like the other toasters?"  
  
"I don't know. If we can, it's a secret. I've seen the resurrection chamber on a baseship and there were no spare bodies for any of us there."  
  
"Doesn't mean they don't exist somewhere," Tory pointed out. "If we're special somehow."  
  
"Resurrection ships are big and we've never got a good look at one. There might have been anything on board," Tyrol mused, and shook his head in wonder. "But nothing where the regular Cylons can see. Sharon's looked at me every day, and she doesn't know."  
  
"They barely remember the Five exist," Sam explained. "Someone - maybe it was us - made them forget. Thea and Leoben know about me, because they were in the temple, but without that revelation, none of them know."  
  
"So… what do we do?" Tory asked, looking around in confusion. "Do we tell? Do we confess? Do we just go on and pretend nothing's changed?"  
  
"Yes," Tigh declared. "We go on. Nothing's changed. We continue to do our duty."  
  
"But… we know the truth," Galen objected. "We can't just --"  
  
"Nothing has changed," Tigh insisted in a growl. "Nothing. No one needs to know. If the toasters figure it out -- we'll deal with it then. But until then, we go on as we were."  
  
"But if we have some sort of destiny--" Tory started.  
  
"It'll find us," Tigh cut her off. "In the meantime, Chief and I have a ship to run, and you have a president to serve, and you -" he swung to pin Anders with a glare from his visible eye. "Keep your religion to yourself."  
  
"It's not a religion!" Sam exclaimed, but stopped himself from arguing. There was no point; the truth was the truth, and they'd learn it somehow. "Fine. I agree, we keep it to ourselves. But it can't stay secret forever."  
  
"Sure it can," Tigh said. "Nothing changes. I know the man I've been for forty years. I am Saul Tigh. That's who I'll be. The rest doesn't matter." He started for the hatch and was the first to go.  
  
Galen glanced at Sam and Tory, with a grimace of apology. "I have to get back to the deck." Then he too ducked out and was gone.  
  
Tory glanced at Sam, and nodded slowly. "I believe you," she murmured. "I feel it, as if there's some greater purpose to all this. We're not copies; we're _different_. Special."  
  
He thought about telling her that 'special' probably meant something closer to 'doomed', but instead he just nodded. "Different. Somehow."  
  
She moved closer and tilted her head back to look at him, so he had a view of her beautiful face, especially her deep eyes and her lips, parted on a breath. "That ability you have to see what's to come? You think I can do it, too?"  
  
"I don't see why not."  
  
"Can you help me learn how to do it?" she asked.  
  
"I don't think so," he answered and wanted to move away, since she was standing so close. "It … came to me."  
  
"But still…" She set a small hand on his shoulder and trailed her fingers down the outside of his arm. "You must have some tips. Some advice?"  
  
He caught her hand in his. "It doesn't help," he told her. "I rarely know what the visions mean until they happen." He thought of Kara and added, "And even then, I've been wrong."  
  
She turned her hand over so she could clasp his hand. "But not always."  
  
"No, not always," he agreed reluctantly. "I'd be glad to show you what little I've learned about how to ask for a vision. But, not right now. I'm sure Thea's wondering where I am."  
  
She blinked and let go of his hand as if it had turned cold. "Right, the Cylon." Then she chuckled a little unsteadily. "The other Cylon."  
  
He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You'll get used to it."  
  
Which was frightening, really - how had he gotten used to being a Cylon? It wasn't as if he understood it any better than he did before. He was one of the enemy, but not. Artificial, but not. Human, but not. Something in between.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Outside in the corridor, they were heading back toward the center of the ship when the power went out.  
  
In an instant, the corridor went pitch dark, and worse, one after another, the sound of the engines and the burbling of the pipes and the hiss of the air also stopped, until there was no sound from the ship at all. He started to feel lighter, as even the artificial gravity began to fade away like fog under the sunlight. Never before had he been so aware that he was inside a metal canister in deep space.  
  
"What happened?" Tory whispered from his side and fumbled for his hand. "What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know," he answered, but he felt it on his skin, like a hum of static electricity. Something was… changing. As if reality was shifting sideways and he could only see it from the corner of his eye…  
  
The lights flickered back on, dim and unsteady, but enough to quiet the incipient panicked cries from down the corridor.  
  
"Power loss on _Galactica_?" Tory wondered. "How is that possible without an attack? Some sort of accident in the reactors?"  
  
"I don't think so," he said, uneasy. "There's something in the air. Do you feel it? I feel like I took chamalla… " He shivered and declared abruptly, "I need to go check on Thea and Iris. You should find Roslin," he advised and let go of her hand to start trotting toward the brig.  
  
It felt like _power_ , was what it felt like. As if the gods were touching this universe directly. And his baby girl was helpless in the brig while gods who were afraid of her might be reaching out to harm her. Not that he could do anything about it, if someone or something was trying to hurt her, but he wasn't going to stand by either.  
  
But he hadn't reached the brig when the alert siren rang loud and Gaeta's voice came over the speakers and announced:  
  
" _Action stations, action stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Inbound Cylon Fleet_..."  
  


* * *

tbc..


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dead return, Sam gives a speech, and ... oh yes, civil war.

* * *

  
  
On his way to the brig, Sam's feet halted. Cylons. The Cylons had found them.  
  
 _You can stop them. You know you can_ , he told himself. _You know what you are, the Raiders know you, the Hybrids know you. This is your chance to do something useful with this knowledge and stop them_.  
  
He glanced toward the brig, torn. _What'll it do to them? What if something was already wrong?_  
  
 _What frakking choice is there? You know Cavil doesn't give a shit about you or Iris or Thea. He's going to kill everyone in the whole frakking fleet unless you do something_.  
  
 _They'll find out the truth. All my friends, they're going to hate me._ He thought of Jean and Hillard and Tucker -- they would turn on him; they'd think he'd been lying to them the whole time.  
  
 _You have been lying to them. And at least they'll be alive to hate you_.  
  
He whirled around and dashed toward the pilots' locker room, shoving himself into his suit. He sealed it with fumbling fingers and grabbed his helmet.  
  
"You cleared for flight?" Hotdog asked him at the hatch, surprised.  
  
Sam shrugged. "Call was for all Viper pilots. I'm a Viper pilot."  
  
Out on the deck he ran through the chaos, looking for a Viper, but of course he didn't have an assignment. He needed a ship.  
  
Tyrol met him. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Old Man revoked your flight status."  
  
"I can stop this, Galen. I'm the only one who can."  
  
Tyrol's eyes widened with realization and his hand seized Sam's shoulder in a tight grip. "You're gonna get killed."  
  
"Better me than forty thousand other people. Give me a ship right now, or everybody's dead."  
  
For an instant, Tyrol's gaze met his and then he nodded. He turned away and shouted, "Raygun, no, sorry, you can't take that one. The power capacitors are fluctuating, you can take this one…"  
  
He shoved Raygun away from his own Viper, toward another one, giving Sam time to scramble up and inside it. Once he was in, it was easy enough for the deck crew to hurry and launch him without caring which pilot was in there.  
  
Moments later he rocketed out the tube and into open space. A quick glance at the dradis gave him the intel on the largest concentration of Raiders and he turned the stick in that direction.  
  
Base stars loomed ominously over the field of battle, not directly engaging the fleet, because they didn't have to, with the swarm of Raiders.  
  
If this didn't work they were all frakked.  
  
It took a moment, with the press of ships and shooting, for him to get one to engage him personally and avoid stray shots.  
  
 _Come on, come on_ , he urged one of them as it formed up on his tail. Then he flipped the ship so he was facing it. He stared at it, and his hands tightened on the stick, but did not fire even though he had weapons lock.  
  
 _Stop, you have to stop. Listen to me; you know who I am_. He focused on the Raider's sensor eye, trying to remember how he'd done it, and reached across the space between them.  
  
 _You need to stop and listen to me_.  
  
The sweep of the red light slowed and fixed on him, and that familiar animalistic joy touched him as it recognized him.  
  
 _Yes. I'm here. You know what I am. You know what they did to me. Tell the others, they need to stop shooting the humans. Form up on me_.  
  
He couldn't hear the call, but he could see its effects immediately, as Raiders twitched and began to disengage from the Colonial combatants.  
  
Over the wireless, he heard the confused chatter, " _They're leaving… What the frak?... They're disengaging_ …"  
  
" _All Vipers, Duck. Pursue. Weapons free_."  
  
Sam clicked on his Wireless. "Duck, Oracle. Belay. Let them go."  
  
" _Oracle_?" Duck repeated in shock. " _What the frak are you doing out here_?"  
  
"Duck, let them go," Sam repeated.  
  
The wireless clicked again, with Adama's growl, " _All Vipers, Galactica Actual. This is Oracle's play. Disengage and pull back_."  
  
Sam was grateful for the Admiral's leap of faith. Maybe in C&C he could see the overall tactical flow that the pilots couldn't.  
  
" _Acknowledged Galactica. All Vipers, Duck. You heard it: disengage_."  
  
"Let them go," Sam repeated and added more softly into the sudden silence, "They're coming to me."  
  
" _What the hell_?" Sam heard more than one voice exclaim over the wireless as they realized what was happening.  
  
The Raiders were all lining in a box formation behind him, as he coasted toward the basestars. More and more of them. He saw some Vipers take pot shots at the passing Raiders, destroying some, but the Raiders didn't engage, heading for him.  
  
When he had all the ones in his near vicinity behind him, and it was perfectly clear that he had control of all them, he toggled the all-frequencies wireless and took a deep breath. He had worried that he wouldn't know what to say, but when he began, the words flowed out, as if he'd planned them all along. "Cylon fleet, this is Samuel Anders. You know my voice. You tried to stop me, you tried to kill me, you kept me in a box for three months, afraid of the truth I was bringing you. You wanted me to bring you to Earth until you realized there was a price, and so you turned on me and those who followed. You said I was corrupting who you are, and you never thought that you have to change to be alive. You never looked behind your prejudices and hate and programming. The Raiders recognized me from the beginning, but you were blind."  
  
He hesitated. His stomach and chest were knots of apprehension, but he knew he had no choice. He had to declare himself. It was time. "I am one of those you call the Final Five. I am the last of the Thirteenth Tribe, resurrected to bridge the differences between Human and Cylon. I order you to stand down. If you do not comply, I will destroy you."  
  
There was no response.  
  
He counted his heartbeats, waiting. They couldn't think he was bluffing, not with a thousand Raiders lined up against their former masters. There were more, a squadron of Heavy Raiders moving his way to join the line.  
  
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, a Viper, maneuvering up to him. The Raiders let it pass to come wing to wing.  
  
Then a familiar voice broke the heavy silence, " _Nice speech, Sam_."  
  
His brain refused to recognize it, sure it was Showboat and his ears playing a trick on him. But when he glanced to the side, he could read the name below the cockpit window - as perfect as though it had been painted yesterday: _Cpt. Kara Thrace. "Starbuck"_  
  
His gaze snapped up to the pilot to see Kara's face, brightly lit by the helmet lights. He blinked and shook his head to chase it away. No more visions of Kara. Not now. But she was still there. "Kara?" he asked, voice suddenly hoarse.  
  
Her smile widened to a grin. " _Miss me_?"  
  
"Kara? Are you… real?" he asked, still frozen in shock and denial. Two months, having her death on him. And she was back.  
  
She frowned at him. " _Of course, I'm real. But, Sam, I have so much to tell you_." The grin came back, bright and excited. " _I've been to Earth. You were right - It's beautiful_."  
  
Earth? How could he care about Earth when she was right there? She was back.  
  
But he had little time to appreciate the miracle. The wireless clicked, and a voice - Three's voice - but sounding so small, he barely recognized it, " _Sam? We didn't know. We didn't -- Forgive us_."  
  
Then another voice, a Six, more briskly, " _This is Natalie. On behalf of the Cylon people, I offer our surrender to Sam Anders. Complete and uncon_ \--" But she broke off with a cry, " _No_!" And the sound of weapons fire until the channel clicked closed.  
  
"Natalie!" He lifted his gaze back to the base ships. One of them fired missiles- on another base ship. He saw the explosion, how the ship seemed to twitch defensively.  
  
Then there was an alarm of weapons lock on his ship. He barely had time to wonder who was marking him, before his hand reacted and jerked the stick.  
  
" _SAM_!" Kara yelled and, as one, they barrel-rolled away from each other to let the missile slip between them. Raiders blew up behind him.  
  
That squadron of Heavy Raiders fired at him again, launching an entire barrage from their forward guns, and he maneuvered desperately to evade.  
  
"Turkeys are not in my control," he shouted over the comm. "Watch yourselves!"  
  
" _They're after you_!" Kara called.  
  
"Frak, I know!" But the Raiders had figured it out too. They went streaming past him in a blur of black and red. Dozens of them intercepted the bolts headed for him and were destroyed, some formed a protective picket around him, but the Heavy Raiders had more than enough to deal with as a hundred or more Raiders went after them. It was beautiful but savage as well - the Raiders swarmed their bigger cousins, heedless of their own losses as they were blown apart by the guns, again and again. But their numbers overcame both weapon and armor advantage. All too soon, the attacking Heavy Raiders were nothing but shards and cooling gases.  
  
" _Lords of Kobol preserve us_ …" said a voice on the wireless, who might have been Hotdog or Red Wing.  
  
Sam breathed deeply, trying to calm his pounding heart. He lifted his hand from the throttle, working his fingers out of their cramping. Frak. _Breathe, Anders_ , he told himself.  
  
He heard a keening sound - soft and not with his ears. He thought it was the Raiders mourning the loss of so many of their own, until he looked up. Three basestars were gone, jumped away. There was one destroyed, with pieces all over the dradis. There were two left: one heavily damaged, but both were listing and spinning, parts on fire or dark, and pieces simply blown away.  
  
Natalie had tried to surrender and Cavil and his side had refused. They'd fought each other. The thought of what the inside of the base star must look like made his blood run cold. Cylon fighting Cylon.  
  
He started to speak and had to clear his throat. "This is Oracle. Some of them - Cavil's faction, the faction that always hated me - didn't want to surrender. They've gone. I don't know when or if they're coming back. But right now, I -- I have to go see who's still alive."  
  
" _Why don't we blow them out of the sky_?" an unfamiliar, hostile male voice demanded. " _They did half the work for us. So let's finish the job_."  
  
Sam closed his eyes, suddenly weary to his bones. It was the same damn thing as always. Nobody learned anything.  
  
" _Pike, shut the frak up_ ," Kara snapped. " _Did you miss the Cylons defending your sorry ass? Did you not hear what Sam said? C'mon, Oracle, let's go check it out_."  
  
" _All Vipers, Galactica_ ," Helo's voice came over the wireless. " _Pull back to fleet perimeter on standby. Oracle and - and Starbuck for recon_." Helo's voice stumbled on her name, shaken by her reappearance as well.  
  
" _Galactica, Duck. Acknowledged_ ," Duck said and peeled away, leaving Sam and Kara's Vipers on their own.  
  
" _So let's recon_." Kara turned her ship toward the base stars and laughed a little. " _If your, uh, new friends will let us pass_."  
  
Sam saw that the way was still clogged with Raiders. But when he pushed the throttle forward, they parted to let him past. Some took up an escort position around him and Kara, while most hung back and waited.  
  
" _This... is kinda freaking me out_ ," Kara muttered.  
  
"They're not going to hurt you," he reassured her.  
  
" _Yeah, that's the part that's freaking me out_."  
  
He was going to retort that it was far freakier seeing her coming back from the dead, but he still wasn't entirely sure she was real. Though no, Helo had said he heard her, too. She was there. Somehow. He swallowed back his doubts for now, and increased his speed. "Heading into the docking bay."  
  
" _This is so strange_ ," Kara murmured as they maneuvered closer to the damaged ship.  
  
Most of the Raiders also peeled away, not following as Sam led the way toward the entrance.  
  
" _Gods, what is that_?" Kara asked, seeing the mechanism for closing the external doors.  
  
"The baseships are part biological," he reminded her. "They have some living systems that control operations."  
  
" _So weird_ ," she muttered but she followed anyway.  
  
He guided her deeper in to the main bay, to the central and largest landing pad. He came in first, and then, light as a feather, she landed her Viper too.  
  
He popped the hatch and climbed out, jumping the last few feet to the deck and leaving his helmet on the wing. His eyes couldn't peel away from Kara, climbing out of her cockpit, too. She removed her helmet and turned to find him.  
  
From about twenty paces distant, their eyes met across the deck. Without the helmet, it was even more clearly her - her hair glimmering in the stark lights, and he could see her eyes.  
  
Suddenly he was heading toward her, racing across the deck, and somewhere in the middle he caught her in his arms, and hugged her to his chest. She felt so solid and real, he could hardly believe it. "You're alive," he whispered in her hair. "I thought you were dead."  
  
She pulled back to frown at him. "Sam, I've only been gone a day."  
  
He shook his head. "You've been gone two months. Your ship exploded in the gas giant. I saw. Kara, I saw. You were gone."  
  
Her gaze flickered with doubt before she pushed it away. "Obviously you were mistaken," she told him tartly. "But you - are you really a Cylon?"  
  
"Of a sort," he answered. "It's complicated." His hand lifted to her cheek to touch her lightly. "I… can't believe you're here again. You saved me--"  
  
She shook her head, now serious. "It was never meant to be you, Sam. It was always me. It's hard to explain but I can feel Earth," she said it as if expecting him to ask impossible questions or doubt her. "In my bones. Pulling at me."  
  
He smiled. At least this part he could understand. "Kara, I had New Caprica yelling at me to go away for a whole year. I'm the last person who's going to call you crazy."  
  
"Good point," she agreed, with a return flash of a smile. She looked so beautiful, he wanted to kiss her, but then she turned her head away to look around. "We should find out what's happened."  
  
There were footsteps and Kara reached for her sidearm, but he put a hand on her arm to stop her. A Six and Eight walked into view, trailed by Centurions, and he recognized them with relief. "Caprica, Sharon, thank god. I hoped this was my ship when I heard Natalie."  
  
They stared at him long enough he thought he might have imagined speaking. Caprica finally shook her head in wonder. "One of the Five; I never thought…"  
  
"I'm glad," Sharon said with a quick smile.  
  
Then Caprica straightened and took a breath, "As Natalie started to say, before that frakker shot her, on behalf of the Cylon regime -- or at least our coalition of Sixes, Eights, Twos, and some Fours and Threes -- we offer our surrender."  
  
"You're surrendering?" Kara repeated in astonishment.  
  
"To Sam," Caprica clarified. "He's our oracle. And, it turns out, now we know why. He's one of the Final Five."  
  
"And as prophesied, the day he declared himself, Cylon unity shattered," Sharon murmured. "Do you know the rest of the Five?"  
  
"I do," he admitted. "But it's not for me to reveal them."  
  
Kara glanced at him, frowning. But none of them had a chance to ask him anything more, as he felt a familiar presence behind him and turned to watch a Raider land on the platform. The sense of sheer joy was nearly overwhelming.  
  
"Excuse me," he said hastily to the three women and hurried closer, between the wings.  
  
"Sam!" Kara shouted in alarm. "What the hell?"  
  
But Caprica said in the same tone of affectionate indulgence he was used to hearing from Thea, "It's all right, Starbuck. They're… friends."  
  
Cerberus hummed at him in contentment, red sensor pinned on him, and he rubbed his hand along the wing to the head. "There you are," he murmured. "I was wondering where you were. I've missed you, too. I'm glad you're back. I need to bring the baby to meet you."  
  
Cerberus was confused, not understanding the idea of procreation, but happy to extend protection to those Sam loved. Sam shut his eyes, petting the hard shell but knowing Cerberus felt it and was comforted, and he let the Raider's croon soothe and warm him in return.  
  
Both Kara and Cerberus had come back after all these months away … it felt so perfect… he wanted to stay there and bask in it for hours.  
  
But his contentment was cut short as a familiar voice spoke diffidently behind him, "Sam? I don't want to disturb you, but we have a very nervous human fleet very close to us and I believe they need reassurance."  
  
With a last pat of Cerberus' great head, he turned to find D'Anna waiting for him. She wasn't wearing white, but instead a black leather jacket over a shirt and tan slacks. Hands clasped before her, she waited as he approached her and then looked down. "Forgive me," she murmured. "Forgive us. We didn't know."  
  
He joined her, standing between Cerberus' pinions. "Do you understand that you failed the test, D'Anna?" he asked quietly. "You didn't fail because you tortured one of the Five-- you failed because you tortured at all."  
  
She nodded. "I understand. I … regret what I did. And I ask for your forgiveness."  
  
He was about to say 'yes, of course', automatically, but then he hesitated, uncertain.  
  
Adding a bit more desperately, she glanced into his eyes, her own bright with intensity, and pleaded, "You're one of the Final Five. You are the oracle, favorite of God, and I … need to know you forgive me."  
  
"Not yet," he told her, and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Forgiveness isn't so easy. Not from me, not from humanity. Saying the words, being remorseful… that's necessary, but it's not enough."  
  
"What more do you want me to do? I'll do it," she offered eagerly.  
  
He looked past her to Caprica and Sharon, and Kara watching him with a puzzled frown as if she'd never seen him before.  
  
"Right now, I think you're right; we need to reassure the Fleet that this ship is friendly. How long before Natalie resurrects?" he asked Caprica.  
  
She looked troubled and shook her head. "Hours, at least. There's been so much death… And that's assuming she will at all."  
  
"Why wouldn't she?"  
  
"I'm not sure the Ones will allow any of us to return," she answered and put her hand on her stomach as if the very thought was making her ill. "They might box all the ones who died."  
  
"Frakkers," he muttered.  
  
"You should see the ship," Sharon told him. "Come to the control center, talk to _Galactica_ , and make sure they know you're in control."  
  
He gestured her to lead the way, though he could find it himself. As he followed, he noted the bodies slumped on the floor: Sixes, Eights, Fours mostly, and others, including some Centurions who had taken fire from their own kind and fallen.  
  
"What about the other ships?" he asked quietly. "Is the entire Fleet like this?"  
  
Caprica nodded sadly. "It spread immediately. The Twos, being united, spearheaded it on the other ships, as much as they could. Where they weren't removed. But this is the only ship where we had no Ones and we had some Centurions to fight with us. "  
  
He knew Kara was listening avidly, but he could only think: civil war. If Cavil's faction boxed all his allies, how many would that leave alive?  
  
The anxiety grew worse as they approached a line of Centurions. Four of them blocked the corridor, side by side; he saw Kara reach for her sidearm, but he put a hand over hers to stop her. The Centurions weren't in a hostile position, besides blocking the way.  
  
"Let us pass," D'Anna ordered.  
  
Caprica swallowed nervously, glancing up at the Centurions and added, "Please?"  
  
They didn't move, but Sam could suddenly sense that they were looking at him. "They know," he realized. "How do they know? They've never known before…"  
  
"We freed them," Caprica explained. "They'd been kept from their higher functions by telencephalic inhibitors."  
  
"They helped us," Sharon said. "They protected us from the others, who weren't free yet."  
  
Then, one of the Centurions moved its arm, putting out a hand with long spidery fingers, and hesitantly Sam mirrored the gesture. The thin fingers - those deadly claws which could grab and tear and turn into guns in a heartbeat - touched his hand, brushing his palm with electric prickles.  
  
"Sam…" Kara warned, sounding a bit strangled.  
  
"It's all right," he reassured her, praying that was true as the fingers reached up to his face. The tips of the fingers touched his skin at first too hard, then backed off to brush the surface with a gentle tingle. Sam remained still, wondering what it was doing. It didn't seem to be trying to communicate; it was almost as if it was proving to itself that he was flesh.  
  
"Do you know me?" he asked it. Frowning, he stared at it, and for the first time ever, felt a wisp of something there. It wasn't what he could feel from the Raiders in all their canine-type emotions, but something… different. Complex, but clearly not thought in the same way as he thought, and hard to touch.  
  
It didn't answer, or at least not in words. It lowered its hand and then, in eerie unison, all four of the Centurions moved aside, opening the way forward.  
  
He went first, and Kara followed after him quickly. "What the frak was that?"  
  
"Damned if I know. I'm a leaf in the stream," he answered, and she snorted.  
  
"Now I know you've been hanging out with Leoben too much."  
  
It felt good to laugh again, and though he knew the harder part was only beginning, Kara was back, and that made everything brighter than it had been.  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 

Kara followed after Sam, keeping an eye on him as something familiar in all the strangeness. But she wasn't sure he really **was** familiar.  
  
He claimed she'd been away for months, and while she had no memory of being gone that long, everything was strange enough it might actually be true. The inside of the basestar was like nothing she'd ever seen, stark and cold and bright, with Cylons everywhere. In the middle of it all, Sam was petting a Raider like it was a frakking dog and getting felt up by Centurions, while he ordered around skinjobs like this was something normal.  
  
This was after he'd given a speech over the wireless about being one of the Final Five. A Cylon. A leader Cylon. It made her nauseous at the thought that she'd frakked a Cylon. A toaster. One of the same kind who'd kidnapped her on Caprica, who'd destroyed the Colonies, who'd made a frakking horror of New Caprica. He was one of them -- and here he was certainly acting like one of them.  
  
Yet when she'd seen him on the deck that hadn't mattered at all. All she'd remembered was her horror at watching his ship head into the storms on the gas giant, as he tried to get himself killed.  
  
They went into the control center, which was a larger open space with weird lighting and flowing water. There was another Six there, and a Simon. The look of him made her blood run cold remembering that horrible place on Caprica and how she'd put a shard of the mirror in his neck. There was also a Leoben there, and the second he noticed her, he stared in awe, with avid eyes as if he couldn't believe she was there. It made her shiver, and she decided to keep her distance from him.  
  
There were also bodies and blood on the floor. Sam went to one of the bodies, a woman who Kara thought at first was a Three and then realized she was actually a Six but with light brown hair, not the more usual pale blonde. "Natalie," he murmured and shook his head, sadly, and glanced up at the two light-haired Sixes. "We need to get her back."  
  
Then he stood and went to the nearest long console where some sort of liquid flowed through it.  
  
"You can use it?" Sharon asked, curiously. "How do you know?"  
  
"I used the data font on the virus-contaminated baseship," he answered absently. "To set it to self-destruct." He smiled a little wryly as he reached out. "It's nice to be able to do this openly."  
  
Kara tensed as he put his hand in, not knowing what to expect. She didn't even know what it was, except that it seemed to be a control device of some sort, even though it was only… water.  
  
But Sam slid his hand in, as the Six he called Caprica did, too. He shut his eyes and his shoulders snapped back, rigid and tense, as if he'd been poked with a sharp stick.  
  
The Eight glanced at Kara and tried a smile. "I'm glad to see you again, Kara."  
  
Kara looked back. "You're not Sharon," she said shortly. "Sharon's on the _Galactica_ with Helo. So don't try it."  
  
She seemed to flinch then admitted, "I'm not Sharon Agathon, I'm Sharon Valerii. Boomer. The first one you knew."  
  
"You are?" Kara demanded. She didn't know quite why she felt so hostile, maybe the uncertainty of this strange place, but she didn't want to think of her former friend Sharon was this same girl in front of her. "How can I know that for sure?"  
  
"You … can't, I guess," she admitted. "But I am."  
  
"She is, Kara," Sam confirmed, though Kara was surprised he had heard. He stood there with his hand in the water, and his expression was intent and concentrating. His eyes flicked as if looking at something invisible.  
  
"And how do you know that?"  
  
"I've always been able to tell them apart."  
  
It wasn't all that reassuring to know he could tell Cylons apart, because… how could he? They were identical. So it had to be some Cylon sense, and that was disturbing.  
  
He lifted his head as if hearing something, and said aloud, " _Galactica_ , this is Sam Anders aboard the baseship. The survivors have surrendered themselves to me. On their behalf, I'm asking to meet with President Roslin and discuss allying against our common enemy."  
  
Kara wasn't the only one who gaped at that. _Allies_? "Are you out of your frakking mind?"  
  
He ignored her and answered some unheard comment from the _Galactica_ , "The Ones and their faction are your enemies, Admiral. These Cylons are not. A great many of them may have just died permanently to prove their intentions."  
  
He listened and said, "Understood, Admiral. Two hours." Pulling his hand out of the liquid, he glanced around and then wiped his hand on his pants. "That was easier than I expected. Last time it was like goo." Then he inhaled a deep breath and glanced at the Cylons. "In two hours, we present our case for why we need to be allies with the Colonial Fleet."  
  
"Never going to happen," Kara declared.  
  
"We have to try," Sam said. "You said you had the way to Earth?"  
  
"I…" she paused, half-hoping that had faded, but it hadn't: the feeling still pulsed within, a strange _tugging_ as if she jumped into space it would sweep her like a wind right to Earth. "I do. Not that I know coordinates, or anything like that, but I can… _feel_ it."  
  
He grinned, sudden and brilliant, and she felt her mood lift in answer. It had been so long since she'd seen that bright, pleased smile. "I know how that is."  
  
"I bet."  
  
The grin faded, as he went serious again. "I don't for one minute believe your coming back with this knowledge right now is an accident. You were _dead_ , Kara. I saw it with my own eyes."  
  
"Then…" she swallowed, glanced around the strange confines of the room and licked her lips. It didn't feel familiar, not the way the call of Earth did, but who the frak knew? It wasn't as if she hadn't had Cylons in her dreams for a year and more. "Maybe I'm a Cylon."  
  
The other Cylons looked at her, eyes widening in sudden shock.  
  
But not Sam. "No, you're not," he answered with reassuring but curious promptness. "I know who the other four are."  
  
"And those are the only Cylons ever?" she demanded. "You can't be sure of that."  
  
He was smiling when he shook his head at her. "Do you want to be one? Because Sharon and I can tell you that self-doubt and hate are really not much fun."  
  
And even though he seemed amused, she knew he wasn't, not really; his eyes were serious and dark, and he meant it. He seemed fairly well adjusted to the truth now, but that didn't mean he hadn't suffered from it.  
  
"Apparently everyone's doing it these days," she muttered and looked away. So maybe she wasn't a Cylon. But it didn't solve anything, not really. If she wasn't a Cylon, what was she? She couldn't have died; that was ridiculous, since she was right there. Sam had to be wrong about that. Something had happened, but she hadn't died.  
  
"Starbuck has a good point," the Three said, "The humans hate us. They'll never allow us to go with them to Earth. Or ally against the Ones. They will want to leave us to face our brothers alone and die."  
  
"We need to explain that when the Ones destroy us, there's nothing to stop them from destroying the humans," Caprica said. "We've been trying to protect them."  
  
"Doing a pretty crappy job of that," Kara retorted.  
  
Caprica raised her head, looking a little offended. "Sharon and I meant to help on New Caprica. We truly meant well… then the others," she glared at the Three, "took over and made it awful."  
  
"I don't think saying it's someone else's fault is going to help much," Kara said.  
  
"When we sent food, that was a gesture of our good will," Sharon said. "Maybe we need something else like that."  
  
They all stared around, wondering, looking finally at Sam to come up with some idea. But he shrugged uncomfortably when he realized they were waiting for him to speak. "I hold the Raiders. You surrendered to me. Maybe that's enough."  
  
"Your control on the Raiders won't last," Simon said. "The Ones will strip the Raiders bare to force them to follow commands."  
  
"Frakker," Sam muttered, glaring balefully. "We need to take him out. All of them. That would solve eighty percent of our problem, right there."  
  
"We'd have to stop them from resurrecting," Caprica said, frowning with the difficulty of the plan.  
  
Kara wanted to snort and shake her head, sourly amused by the Cylons discovery of the strategic disadvantage to having enemies that can't die. _Yeah, welcome to my life_.  
  
"What about the resurrection ships?" Sharon suggested. "We could destroy the ones in range."  
  
The Three moved and opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped as if she reconsidered. She glared at her sisters as if to quell any objection, "It would be dangerous for us, but perhaps it would be a gesture to the humans. We could offer the resurrection ships to the humans in exchange for Earth."  
  
"Hey, I'm the one who knows where Earth is," Kara said, annoyed by how she seemed to assume this was a done deal.  
  
"But you'll give it to the humans," Caprica told her. "We know that. But it's our destiny, too."  
  
"Unless she doesn't go back to them," the Three said, threatening. Kara put a hand on her sidearm, for the first time tempted to draw it and get the hell out of there.  
  
Sam caught the threat, too. "D'Anna."  
  
That was all he had to say for her to twitch as if he'd smacked her, and she bowed her head in regret.  
  
Kara glared at her. Some of them hadn't changed all that much, obviously.  
  
"Kara, maybe you should return to _Galactica_ ," Sam suggested and his mouth twisted in a grimace. "You'll be tainted by association already, but it'll be better if you're not with us. And I'm sure they'll be more excited to see you if I'm not there."  
  
And it would be safer for her away from the baseship, which he didn't say. She didn't think he'd lose his leadership role over them, but he was obviously worried he could when she was a tempting target. She nodded. "All right. I'll see you soon."  
  
"Sharon, would you see Kara back to her Viper?" he requested.  
  
Even as Sharon agreed, Kara met his eyes, feeling suddenly as if that closeness she'd felt on the deck had evaporated. He was a Cylon, doing creepy Cylon things like sticking his hand in water to control a computer. But watching him do it also had seemed vaguely familiar. And when she turned and walked away, putting more distance between them, the feeling in her bones seemed to tug at her to return. To help Cylons. It made her want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  
  
In the corridor, she muttered, "This place messes with your head."  
  
"It does," Sharon agreed with a fleeting smile. They headed through the identical corridors, broken only by side chambers, a lift, and the occasional Cylon cleaning up the damage. But then the corridor widened out and she was back in the docking bay, with Sam's weird pet Raider resting not far from the hatch with its sensors passing idly back and forth. It didn't react when it saw her and Sharon, but she wondered if it was disappointed Sam hadn't come with her.  
  
Her Viper and Sam's sat like shiny birds in the middle of a strange land. Seeing them both, she realized that hers was far brighter. It looked clean. Perfect. Her stomach clenched up as she approached it. It wasn't hers. It was marked as hers, and it had the correct number on the tail, but it wasn't the one she'd been flying in last.  
  
"This… doesn't make any sense," she murmured. "It looks new."  
  
"It does," Sharon agreed, running a hand along the unmarked fuselage. "Strange."  
  
Kara shook her head. "I'm not flying back in that. It's going to be hard enough to swallow I'm back, if everyone believes I died, without that." She grabbed her helmet from where she'd left it on the wing, and headed for Sam's Viper instead. It wasn't actually his, marked for Raygun which told her at least that Sam hadn't been in a bird consistently since last she'd seen him. At least the Viper looked normal. She climbed up the lower wing and into the cockpit, tossing his helmet down to Sharon. "Here, make sure Sam keeps this."  
  
Sharon grabbed it and called up to her, "Tell my sister I said hello. And if you think it'll help, let the others know I'm here, and I support Sam and all he's trying to do."  
  
Right, because support from the Cylon who'd shot the Admiral was going to help. But Kara said nothing, just waved in acknowledgment and started her pre-flight checklist.  
  
Soon she was on her way, rocketing out of the Cylon docking bay. There were Raiders at a protective distance, guarding the baseship, but they didn't bother her as she headed for the human fleet which stretched out in the light of the stars. " _Galactica_ , Starbuck, returning to the barn."  
  


* * *

  
  
The deck had been cleared for her arrival, with only a squad of marines, Chief, Helo, Lee, Athena, and Adama there. Chief came up to her, pushing the ladder into place. He looked at her for a long moment as she took off her helmet. "Welcome back, Captain."  
  
"Thanks, Chief. I … don't feel like I've been away, but Sam told me I was."  
  
"He didn't come back with you?" Chief asked.  
  
"He's … getting them ready," she answered with a shrug and handed him the helmet to hang onto as she climbed out and headed down the ladder to confront the group.  
  
Athena looked the wariest while Lee hurried forward. "You're alive!" he grabbed her into a hug - at first tentative, as if he wasn't sure she was solid, and then tighter. She hugged him back, at first relieved by his same-ness, and then she pulled back realizing he was in a civilian suit. "What's up with the monkey suit, Lee?"  
  
"I left," he explained shortly, with a glance at his father, who took that as his cue, and stepped forward.  
  
"Starbuck."  
  
"Sir." She faced him and couldn't contain her excitement, bubbling again through her body, "I've been to Earth! I can take us there."  
  
Nobody's face seemed thrilled by the news, although only Sharon seemed openly wary. "Good news, if true," the Admiral said. "But I have to ask how."  
  
"I was there, I saw it," she told him and grinned. "It's so beautiful."  
  
"You were dead, Kara," Helo said. "Your Viper blew up. And now you're back at the same moment the Cylons attack us with some sort of mystery weapon, and Anders says he's been a Cylon all along, and here you are… it's all a little hard to swallow." He said it with regret as if he wanted to believe her. "Are you a Cylon, too?"  
  
"No!" she protested. "I'm me. I'm… just me. I don't know why you all think I died, but I didn't." Then she repeated because they didn't seem to be grasping the important part. "I've been to Earth! I can take us there - I feel it." She put a hand to her chest, thought that wasn't exactly where the feeling was coming from. "It's inside. I know the way. Please, sir, this can save us…" She looked to the admiral, knowing he was the one she had to convince.  
  
"Isn't that how Anders found the algae planet for the Cylons?" Lee asked.  
  
Which was true, but he was making it sound like she was a Cylon and this was some sort of trap, when she knew it wasn't. Damn Sam for coming into the open right when she needed people to believe her the most.  
  
"He also told me I'm not a Cylon!" she snapped. "He can feel them or something and I'm not. But yes, I guess it's the same sort of gods-given feeling, pulling me. Us. To Earth." She could see it in her mind, as if through the canopy of her Viper -- a sphere of blue and green and white, and beneath the clouds, seas and cities. "Look, I remember it, it's beautiful and we have to go there. I have proof!" She'd been in her Viper, it would have the recordings on her gun cameras… which were on the Viper she'd left on the baseship.  
  
"Proof?" Adama asked.  
  
"My gun cameras," she answered, realizing she'd made a mistake. "On my Viper."  
  
They all turned to look at her Viper, and she shook her head. "This one's Sam's, though. I took his to come back, I didn't think it would matter. Frak."  
  
"So the Cylons have your Viper and any proof of Earth?" Adama asked, and even though his tone was calm, she knew what he was thinking.  
  
"I didn't mean to!" she protested.  
  
Adama turned to Helo. "You and Athena take her to sickbay and have Doctor Cottle do a full examination. Let's make sure we eliminate any easy trickery. Watch her."  
  
"Yes, sir," Helo agreed.  
  
"We'll meet later," the admiral assured Kara then ordered, "Chief, look over the Viper, make sure there are no surprises. Apollo, with me."  
  
Lee smiled at her. "I'm glad you're back." Then he followed his father out.  
  
Helo looked at her and shook his head, lips quirked in rueful amusement. "I should've known."  
  
"Anders is the one who said you were dead in the first place," Sharon pointed out. "He's the only one who saw it happen. Maybe he was lying about that."  
  
Helo glanced at her in surprise. "He wasn't; you know he believed it." He glanced back at Kara. "He took it hard."  
  
"He's… one of the Final Five," Sharon murmured, and shook her head. "I didn't even think they were real."  
  
"Yeah, what are they, anyway?" Tyrol asked, moving closer, looking to Sharon curiously.  
  
"Didn’t you hear what he said?" Helo asked in surprise. "His transmission was reported on all wireless frequencies, even all-hands; Gaeta's trying to chase that down."  
  
"Yeah, I heard, everyone heard," Tyrol answered. "But what does it _mean_?" he asked Sharon.  
  
She shrugged, for a moment looking profoundly uncomfortable. "I don't know any more than you do, Chief. Just that we're not supposed to think about them. Funny, Sam asked me the same question on Caprica. I didn't know he was testing me, seeing if his cover would hold." She shook her head and fingered her sidearm.  
  
"He told me he knew on Caprica, but he didn't believe it," Kara explained. "And there's a lot he still doesn't know. He wasn't playing you, Sharon; he was trying to understand."  
  
"Well, he'll be here soon enough," Helo said. "He can answer for himself. But in the meantime, we have to go to Cottle."  
  
In sickbay, a nervous Ishay took a blood sample, while a more relaxed Cottle gave her a frown. "Good to see you're not dead."  
  
"Me, too," she answered with a quick smile. "I think it was a mistake."  
  
He checked her thoroughly, including noting her scars that were all the same and then x-rays to check her bones and teeth.  
  
"Okay, we're done," Cottle announced. "I have to examine all the results."  
  
"I'm telling you, it's me," she insisted, but Cottle only grunted.  
  
Kara forced herself not to snap back, knowing he was doing his job and she shouldn't blame everyone for being suspicious, since they'd thought she was dead. Then she had the bad luck to show up exactly at the same time as the Cylons and when Sam had decided it was the perfect moment to mention he was a Cylon, too. She heaved a short annoyed sigh and put herself back in her clothes to go find her minders.  
  
Helo and Athena were gone, but Gunny Mathias was there, grim and resolute, and backed up by four of her people. "Captain, I'm to escort you to the conference room."  
  
They surrounded her, as if she was some kind of dangerous animal, and though she understood it, it was still annoying. At least they weren't hand-cuffing her or putting her in one of those heavy restraints like Sharon had been forced to wear early on.  
  
In the conference room, Kara sat in the lonely chair in the middle of the floor facing the long table, as if she was on trial. There was no one else there for what felt like days but was only about twenty minutes of staring at the blank gray walls and the equally blank marine guards.  
  
She daydreamed idly about rising up and punching them all the face just to see what they'd do, but otherwise waited as patiently as she could.  
  
Then the others filtered in: President Roslin, who looked wan, on the admiral's arm, Tory Foster at her other side, Sharon, and Lee. He smiled at her even if everyone else looked grim. She smiled back, grateful for someone being friendly, even if he did look bizarre - handsome but bizarre - in the civilian suit jacket.  
  
Then Doctor Cottle came in. He saw them all gathered and went straight to Roslin and the Admiral, slapping down a folder. "Here are all the test results, but to summarize -- that is Kara Thrace. To the best of my knowledge she is exactly the same person down to her bones."  
  
Roslin fingered the file folder. "And not a Cylon copy?"  
  
"Unless the Cylons can duplicate childhood healed bone injuries in an adult?" he retorted. "Something I've seen no evidence of, I'd say definitely not a Cylon copy."  
  
Kara let out a breath, a little relieved in spite of herself.  
  
The Admiral dismissed Cottle and the marines, and then folded his hands to regard Kara. "Which leaves us with the other Cylon problem. They're coming here, in an hour, to talk an alliance."  
  
"Something clearly impossible," Roslin said, "And so what I want to know, Captain, is what are they planning? Why would they even try this?"  
  
She licked her lips. "Because they want Earth, Madam President. Because they want to live; and they think the others are going to kill them."  
  
"Well, they can't have Earth and I don't care if they die. Problem solved," Roslin said, and waited for Kara's response.  
  
Kara knew it was a test and she gnawed at her lip to figure out what to say.  
  
In the break, Tory said diffidently, "But if they're rebels… if they're like Lieutenant Agathon…"  
  
Sharon stiffened and seemed about to disclaim all knowledge, so Kara interjected, "Boomer's over there. She said to tell you, Admiral, and Athena, that she follows Sam. They surrendered to him, sir. They went to war against their own kind when they realized what he is. And all Sam wants is peace."  
  
"You believe that?" the Admiral asked. "Even though he lied to all of us? And he's a Cylon himself?"  
  
"That reaction is exactly why he couldn't have said anything, sir," Tory said, drawing an astonished look from Roslin. "Thea's still in a cell, and all she did was have a baby and save the life of one of your officers. So what was he supposed to do -- admit what he was and end up in a cell with her?"  
  
"Yes, Ms Foster, that's exactly what he should've done," Lee said sharply, "and take the consequences. The Cylons exterminated almost all of humanity; and one of them who lied about what she was nearly murdered the Admiral because she couldn't control herself. So we don't trust them." He glanced at Sharon and amended his statement grudgingly, "Until they prove themselves."  
  
Tory returned his look, very calm, but with a tight jaw and glaring dark eyes, as she retorted, "If he'd turned himself in and you'd put him in a cell, we'd all be dead, _Mister_ Adama."  
  
Kara didn't know Tory all that well, but clearly not even the last two months were enough to explain how she was suddenly so outspoken. It didn't hurt that she was right; and Kara was glad to find an ally in the room, even a surprising one. Earth was out there, they had to go there, and they were wasting time on these issues which, to her mind, weren't important.  
  
Sharon inhaled a deep breath, attracting their attention, and squared her shoulders, as if she didn't want to speak but felt she had no choice. "He's one of the Final Five, Admiral," Sharon offered quietly, looking down at her hands that were folded together on the top of the table. "While I don't know much about them, I can confirm for you they were not involved in the attacks on the Colonies. None of us knew who they were, or that they existed as more than myths. And he said - " she had to pause to draw an unsteady breath, "he said he was resurrected to bridge our peoples. 'Resurrected' must mean he had another life before. But the real question is, resurrected from what? And by whom?"  
  
Roslin said, now looking uncertain, "He told me he remembered Kobol." Her fingers trembled, on the folder.  
  
Kara nodded, remembering that, too. She leaned forward to press her advantage, "I think we need to hear them out, sir. Madam President. That I came back at the very same time this went down, it's not a coincidence. It can't be. And if it's not a Cylon trick, then… it has to be something else."  
  
The admiral took off his glasses, rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and then put them back. "How did you come back, Starbuck? What happened?"  
  
"I was in my Viper at the gas giant. Sam was trying to get himself killed… so I stopped him. Then…" she remembered the dream or whatever it had been with her mother and that non-Leoben, but she figured that was probably best not to mention, so she skipped forward in the story, "There was a white flash. I must've lost consciousness for a little while because I woke up and I was in the cockpit above Earth. I saw it and I knew what it was. And then, the next thing I remember I was back in the gas giant - or at least that's what I thought it was. I pulled out of the gas into space to find the Fleet and the Cylons engaging not far away."  
  
"That's it?" Lee asked. "You were gone for more than two months! Where did you go?"  
  
"I … " She looked at him and hated that the only answer she had was a shrug. "That's all. As far as I know I was only gone for a few hours. Six, tops. Not days, and sure as hell not months."  
  
No one seemed to have answer for that for a short silent pause. Kara cast in her mind, trying to come up with something, an explanation that would account for what she knew to be true with the apparent actual fact that she'd been gone for two months in a ship with nowhere near that much air, food, or water. Which didn't even count that it wasn't her ship, which nobody here knew yet.  
  
"Maybe no time passed for you," Lee suggested hesitantly. "Some sort of wormhole with relativistic effects…"  
  
She seized on it eagerly. "Yes, maybe something like that. I mean, I know it wasn't an accident; it couldn't have been, because I still feel it. It's a feeling - this _need_ to go there. I've been there, I have to find it again. We should go as soon as we can."  
  
"Yes, well, we'll have to see about that," Roslin said, slowly, her face creased with doubt.  
  
"But -" Kara objected.  
  
The Admiral lifted a hand. "Starbuck. We have Cylons on our doorstep who want to talk to us. First things first."  
  
Kara subsided reluctantly, knowing he was right, but it was hard when every instinct still seemed to tug at her to get moving.  
  


* * *

tbc... 


	12. Chapter 12

 

On the baseship, Sharon swallowed back her amazement that this had happened. They'd **won** \-- not the war, but they'd won a battle. The rebel Cylons had won against Cavil and his minions, and they'd found one of the Five, who had been under their nose the whole time. She wondered how they hadn't figured it out, and caught herself smiling at the memory of Sam's time with them before. A Raider had all but glued itself to his side that day and somehow they'd all decided that was perfectly normal thing for a human.  
  
He'd known the whole time. Even without understanding, and while learning about them as they'd learned him, he'd started to shift them into something new. And the Ones had fought him every step of the way.  
  
"They know, don't they?" Sharon blurted. Her sister Vera and the others frowned at her, not understanding. "They've always been afraid of you."  
  
"Who?" Simon asked.  
  
But D'Anna glance at Sam and then nodded slowly, in agreement. "Yes. I think you're right. The Ones know the identities of the Five. They've always known more than us."  
  
"So why not kill Sam? If he was such a threat?" Sharon persisted. "I mean kill for real, not as a ploy."  
  
"Great, thanks, Sharon," he muttered dryly.  
  
"Because even my brother fears offending God," Leoben answered.  
  
"No, the Ones don't fear God," Simon corrected. "They believe in no god. Isn't that their main flaw?"  
  
D'Anna snorted. "Among many. But I think what they feared is that Sam would rise again, in full power and memory."  
  
Sam shook his head. "If you've seen proof I resurrect, I'll hear it, but he told me he was stashing me away as a card to play later. Can't play a card if you throw it away." He made a face, making light of it, but added, turning away to hide a suddenly pale face, "And he wanted to make me suffer."  
  
Caprica put a hand on his arm and squeezed gently, murmuring, and he turned to her, suddenly stopping as if for a moment he'd expected Thea instead.  
  
That seemed to remind him of his priorities, and he faced them again. "So these resurrection ships… how many do we have to destroy to put a dent in his ability to resurrect?"  
  
D'Anna smiled with a zealous gleam in her eyes. "Not resurrection ships. I didn't want to mention it in front of Starbuck, without a consensus on what to do, but a better idea is to destroy the Hub."  
  
The Sixes stared at her in shock, Sharon and Sam both frowned in confusion, with no idea what she was talking about. She often ran into these odd empty spots in her knowledge, as if her undercover identity and lack of knowledge had permanently altered what she knew, even though resurrection had restored much of it.  
  
"The Hub?" Sam repeated blankly. "What's that?"  
  
Caprica shook her head, and folded her arms, looking cold. "The Hub is the central … processor for resurrection. We can't resurrect without it."  
  
"Where is it?" Sharon asked.  
  
"We don't know," D'Anna said. "It's a ship. It moves frequently, and its location is secret. But if we destroy it, we become mortal. All of us." She glanced at Sam. "That would demonstrate our sincerity."  
  
"The Ones and Fives, and everyone who split, too?" Sharon asked.  
  
"All of us," Leoben confirmed. "Forever. I believe it is heavily defended. We would need help from _Galactica_."  
  
Sam frowned, looking deeply disturbed by this new revelation. But Sharon thought it was a good - if frightening - idea. Destroy the Hub and become mortal was the biggest gesture of their sincerity Sharon could imagine offering to the humans. But even more importantly, it was a strategic victory that Adama would be a fool not to do, and Adama was no fool.  
  
Caprica looked at D'Anna with big eyes, impressed, "When you change sides, you go all in, don't you?"  
  
D'Anna answered, "We have to atone for our sins. Didn't you say that, back in the Colonies, Caprica? What better way to atone than to become what we harmed?"  
  
Her words seemed to fall like a stone in the room, leaving silence behind it.  
  
"This is a decision we can't make lightly," Simon said, after a moment. "It alters who we are."  
  
"For the better," Caprica insisted.  
  
"Perhaps, but we shouldn't rush into it in a blind fervor either."  
  
"Well, this is all very exciting," Sam said, "But if you don't know where it is, does it matter?"  
  
For a moment silence fell, and all the Cylons looked at each other in dismay and disappointment, except for Leoben, who said quietly, "The Hybrid will listen to you. She can find it for you."  
  
Sharon remembered Sam's screaming when the Hybrid had held him in her datastream, and by his sudden pallor, he was remembering worse. He looked about to vomit but nodded. "Maybe. I can try. But first I want to make sure you understand," he said. "If we destroy the Hub, all the Cylons become mortal." He swallowed. "And if you're right, and your souls don't move on, that's it. One life."  
   
"Children," Caprica said. "Isn't that the way humans continue? That's how we can do it, too, but it can't happen unless we get rid of resurrection."  
   
He shook his head. "Perhaps, but two babies are a slender thread to hang our people on, don't you think? Iris is her own miracle, and a fully Cylon child won't happen again. Hera is the shape of things to come, but she may be her own solitary miracle as well."  
   
"Are you sure about that?" Sharon blurted, disappointed, thinking about Galen on the _Galactica_ as her vague hopes of the future popped like soap bubbles.  
  
Sam glanced at her and his blue eyes seemed to touch her deeply, understanding. "Even if there are more, you all know damn well that the humans fear and hate us for the most part, so most of you will die alone. So think carefully before you agree to this. Once done, it can't be undone."  
   
"That makes it sound as if you're saying we shouldn't do this," Sheryl said, sounding confused.  
   
"I'm not telling you either way," he insisted. "I just want you all to understand the cost. If you do this, it's forever. Maybe that's a good thing; maybe it's not. If I tell you what to do, then it won't be your choice anymore. And this has to be your decision, not mine."  
  
"Then, we'll take a consensus-- " D'Anna said, but he interrupted with a shake of his head.  
   
"No. Everyone on the ship gets one vote. Dissenters need to be heard too. I don't want just us choosing this. It isn't right to have a decision like this made for everyone else. If Cylons are going to be individuals, they need to start learning to be individuals."  
  
"You want… a vote?" D'Anna asked, her tone unsure. "Everyone?"  
  
"Yes, everyone gets heard," he declared, growing more certain. "I don't want a repeat of what happened with the Sixes when some of them felt shut out. This is a big decision, the most important one the Cylons may ever make, and I won't dictate it."  
  
Sharon thought it was fair and a good idea, even though it also showed how little Sam understood them. He was used to the rebels who genuinely tried to think as individuals, but there were a great many more, even on the ship and among her sisters, who would never vote against a prevailing consensus. They were even less likely to vote against the wishes of their oracle, one of the Final Five, and father of the only full Cylon child in the universe. It would be like voting against the wishes of God and Sharon didn't think she was ready to do that herself.  
  
"It will be as you wish," Leoben said. "We will all vote." His promise made her want to laugh, since she would have bet all her cubits on none of the Twos voting against an attack on the Hub either.  
  
"Good but not yet. First we need to deal with the Fleet. I'm going, but I don't know who else to bring." His gaze settled first on Sharon and he looked uncertain. "I'd like to bring you, but I don't know how Adama would react."  
  
She didn't know either, but she pointed out, "He did listen to me at the algae planet. And Athena is there." And Galen, but she kept that to herself. She wanted to see him, even if he didn't want to see her.  
  
"All right," Sam nodded. "And Caprica. You two started this with me, seems right that we go together." He faced Leoben and cocked his head a little, regarding the Two. "I'll try to get your brother freed to come back here."  
  
"If he desires it. But I think it will depend on where you choose to be," Leoben said.  
  
Then Sam turned to D'Anna and let out a sigh. "A wise woman told me once that I need the Threes. So I want you to come. But if you start coming unglued or threatening them, I'll send you home." Then he held out his hand to Simon. "Another time, Simon. You went against your brothers, for me, and that's worth something. You're my second on this ship."  
  
His eyes wide with surprise, Simon looked down at their clasped hands and back at Sam. "I am?  
  
"You." Sam clapped him on the shoulder with his other hand. "Welcome to individuality. It means someone gets to be in charge."  
  
Simon still didn't seem to believe what Sam was saying, but Sharon thought it was a good idea. Simon was the chanciest of their allies, since he was the only one of his model to cross over; she trusted him, but it was difficult for a Cylon to be alone. It would be much harder to fold if he knew Sam was depending on him.  
  
Then that disposed of, Sam said, "I don't suppose you picked up another Raptor? Because I'd rather not take a Heavy Raider if we can help it."  
  
"We don't have another, no," Drea said.  
  
"But the other ship does," Caprica added.  
  
"The other basestar is heavily damaged," Sheryl said, turning from the forward data font. "The Hybrid isn't certain whether it can be made FTL ready."  
  
Simon suggested, "Perhaps while you're gone, we should begin the process to merge the ships. There are few survivors over there, which can be easily integrated, and this ship can use its material to recover more quickly."  
  
"Merge the ships?" Sam repeated, in astonishment. "You mean, actually put them together somehow?"  
  
Caprica's delighted smile brightened the room. "Yes. Damaged ships can unify to become one healthy vessel."  
  
"That's… amazing," Sam said and shook his head, running his fingers down the edge of the data font and his face was quietly wondering, like he thought the ship might be feeling his touch.  
  
Sharon had a good idea what he was feeling. Like him, she still thought of herself as human, because that was what she'd known first. They'd both had to accept the truth, but his came with greater uncertainty and greater loneliness, she thought, since at least she'd had her sisters.  
  
"It'll take time," D'Anna warned, "and leave us vulnerable during the process."  
  
"All right," he said finally. "let's do that. I'll inform _Galactica_ of the plan so they know what we're trying to do. Have the other baseship send us the Raptor."  
  
Forty minutes later they were in the docking bay ready to enter the Raptor. First Sam greeted the newly arrived Cylons - two Threes, three Sixes, four Eights, and another Two, who all watched him hungrily, not as used to the idea of one of the Five among them. She saw disappointment as he asked, "No Fours?" and got a negative response. Then he stared at the Raider, before smiling and shaking his head with rueful affection and went into the Raptor to sit in the co-pilot seat, while Sharon took lead.  
  
She handed him his helmet. "Ready?"  
  
"No," he admitted, "not really, but what choice do I have?"  
  
"Not much," she agreed. She touched the liftoff controls and headed out, with Sam's Raider and its squadron following in a protective shadow. They peeled away when Duck's squadron approached, staying back, but not leaving entirely.  
  
It was, Sharon thought, a rather pointed reminder to _Galactica_ to be careful with her new guest.  
  
As the Raptor approached _Galactica_ , she swallowed, remembering her last moments on this ship, how Cally had shot her, and the pain, and Galen holding her as she'd died…  
  
Sam's touch on the back of her hand brought her out of her dark memories. "I won't let them do anything to you, Sharon. You're with me."  
  
"But who's with you?" she asked. She said it lightly, but she wanted to know how he could really protect her when he was very possibly in big trouble himself.  
  
"Aurora," he answered, with perfect and comforting certainty, "and God. One thing I know for sure in all this, Sharon -- I'm not alone."  
  
The tightness in her chest eased and it was with renewed confidence that she spoke to _Galactica_ for permission to board and landing directions.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The deck was cleared for the Cylon party's arrival -- not because the Admiral was worried about the Cylons, or at least Kara didn't think so -- but for their protection. Word had somehow gone around already that the Cylons were coming to talk, and this, on top of Baltar's acquittal, was causing unrest.  
  
So Kara was there, with a small detachment of marines, Sharon, and Helo along with Tyrol and Brasko.  
  
The Raptor landed with a bump, and Kara couldn't help a little smile once she saw the pilot in the cockpit. "Never could land worth a damn," she muttered to Sharon to her right, and on Sharon's opposite side, Helo snickered.  
  
Once the Raptor was down, the hatch hissed open and Sam, wearing his flightsuit, was first out. He didn't say anything at first as he stood in the hatchway to look at who was there to meet him. She noticed he'd removed his sidearm from the holster on the suit, so he was unarmed, and he gave each of them an assessing glance as if hoping to get a clue about what his reception was going to be.  
  
On the deck itself, he waited as other Cylons emerged and joined him on the deck, and he introduced them quietly, "I think Sharon - Boomer - you already know; And Caprica, and D'Anna."  
  
Athena glanced at her sister. "Boomer."  
  
"Sister." Boomer looked up and tentatively smiled. "Helo. Good to see you again." But her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the other side and Tyrol. He was standing a little far to be greeted but she looked at him. He looked back, his hands clenched to fists at his side, and there was such a look of uncertainty on their faces it hurt a little. But there was no hatred on the Chief's, Kara noticed. Whatever he still felt for his former Cylon lover, it wasn't hate.  
  
"Anders," Helo said, as if he wasn't quite sure what to feel either.  
  
"I …" Sam cleared his throat. "Did my, uh, announcement cause any problem for Thea and Iris?"  
  
"No, they're safe."  
  
"Good. I -- I was worried about that."  
  
"You knew all along," Helo burst out, sounding hurt. "You didn't tell us? I think - gods, Sam, did you think we wouldn't understand? Of all people?"  
  
Sam sighed and looked weary. "You'd have told the admiral, Helo. And everyone would've wanted answers from me I don't have. But I am sorry, if it helps."  
  
Helo hesitated for a moment then let it go with a nod. "All right. Fair enough. We should get you to the conference room. Be on your guard -- we cleared the deck but not the halls, and your announcement went out on the all-hands somehow, so everyone knows."  
  
"Well, that's great," Sam muttered.  
  
"C'mon, Oracle, buck up," Kara said. "Not every ship is going to treat you like you're one of the frakking Lords of Kobol."  
  
"No, I didn't think they would; I just hoped it would take longer," he answered heavily, resigned to distrust and hate and fear.  
  
"You had nothing to do with the attacks," Caprica comforted him with a hand on his shoulder. "They shouldn't blame you."  
  
"But they will, Caprica," he answered and shrugged off her hand. "Come on, let's do this."  
  
"I'm going the other way," Athena announced. "I'll meet you at the conference room."  
  
She dashed off, to Kara's surprise, but Helo didn't appear to mind as he ordered the marines into position to escort the group. At the hatch, Boomer looked back and waved to Tyrol, who raised a hand to her.  
  
Outside the deck wasn't too crowded with not as many people cleared to come near, but there were still pilots and crew who turned to stare as the group went by. Kara spotted Skulls fingering his sidearm, and she glared at him, while moving to Sam's side defensively.  
  
But that was the worst of it, until they went into the main corridor where more of a crowd had gathered.  
  
"They don't belong here! Get them off the ship! No toasters!" people yelled. And one person threw something which hit D'Anna in the back of her black leather jacket, making her stumble. Luckily it turned out to be an empty metal can, and D'Anna waved off their concern, so they kept going.  
  
"It's Anders! " The cry went up as he was recognized. "Traitor! Always knew he was one of them!"  
  
Kara glanced at him to see his expression carefully blank, staring out ahead of them.  
  
But to Kara's surprise there were people who shouted more supportive things in response. "He saved us!" a woman called out. "Don't you understand that? He saved the ship! He made them stop, you all heard it."  
  
The crowd parted enough for Kara to see that it was Julia Brynn, who had managed to silence the people near her with the force of her outrage.  
  
But not everyone. "He's one of them!" someone yelled. Something large and metallic was flung out of the crowd at the back of Sam's head. Kara shoved him out of the way. He crashed into Caprica and both of them fell against two marines, as the wrench passed to the side and hit someone in the crowd.  
  
Helo ordered anxiously, "Let's go, people! Marines, fall in, protective detail."  
  
Kara stayed close to Sam, as the marines drew together, ushering the Cylons through the crowd. She watched the crowd, worried about something worse than a wrench, and worried about the whole thing turning into a riot. Fortunately there were never so many people that they had to push anyone out of the way, but it was still a few nerve-wracking minutes before the group passed into the secure operations area and left them behind.  
  
Boomer was ashen and trembling. Caprica hugged her quickly, "It's okay, sister. We made it through."  
  
D'Anna said a little dryly, meeting Kara's eyes, "It's not the most pleasant thing to remember dying."  
  
"Isn't it better than just dying?" Kara retorted.  
  
D'Anna smiled back. "I don't know -- why don't you tell us?"  
  
Kara flinched, and reminded herself that they were wrong. She hadn't died; it had been a mistake and her two month gap was some sort of weird, but perfectly explainable phenomenon, as soon as she figured it out.  
  
"We'll all be the same soon enough," Sam said cryptically. "C'mon, I hate waiting around."  
  
They all entered the conference room, where Roslin, the admiral, Lee, and Sharon were already waiting. Kara almost smiled, thinking Sharon must've run the whole way to beat them there. Kara and Helo both went to join the Colonial side of the table; there were four empty chairs on the other side, with marines taking up a station at the wall behind them.  
  
Sam went straight to the chair directly opposite Roslin without hesitation. He seized the back in one hand and greeted her politely, "President Roslin."  
  
"Please, be seated," she invited, and the group all took seats. Kara knew she wasn't the only one who looked between the two Sharons, as alike as twins, but subtly different as well. It wasn't just their hair was a little different with Athena's trimmed more precisely for Fleet, or their clothing, but Athena's face was harder and more controlled, while Boomer's held a trace of uncertainty and youth to it that Athena's didn't.  
  
It was, at least to Kara's eyes, a pointed reminder that they might talk about the Cylons as identical copies, but they weren't. At least not anymore. Still strange though.  
  
Roslin looked at Sam across the table for a long moment before pressing her lips together and speaking, "You lied to me."  
  
He answered, "No, I didn't. Everything I told you was the truth. I just… kept the rest of it to myself."  
  
"That you're one of the Final Five."  
  
He quirked a half-smile, wry, "Nobody, including me, knows what that actually means."  
  
"It means you're some kind of Cylon," Lee said impatiently.  
  
Sam let out a low sigh and probably would've rolled his eyes if he'd been more relaxed. "Yes. But it's not the same."  
  
"You're certainly cozy with them," Roslin pointed out. "They claim to follow you."  
  
Caprica shot her a look, chin tilted in offense. "We do."  
  
Roslin ignored her. "You have a Cylon lover and a child. Your loyalties would seem to be pretty clear. So forgive me, Sam, but I have to wonder how much humans matter to you anymore."  
  
"Of course they matter," Sam protested. "That's what all this is _for_. Let me tell you what I want - since that'll be more useful. I want the people of this fleet to be safe and protected. I want them not to have to fear Cylons anymore. I also want my Cylon daughter Iris to grow up -- to be safe and free, and not hated for things she had no part in. And most of all, I want all of these people, Human and Cylon, to find their home on Earth, because that's our destiny. I believe none of us will find it unless we do it together."  
  
Roslin nodded, giving nothing away. "And ultimately? Which side would you pick, if you had to?"  
  
"Ultimately…" he hesitated, and absently tugged on his dogtags with his left hand. "I'm one of the Final Five, President Roslin. I can't choose because I'm both. My side is the side that wants peace, with everyone else who wants to join me. Right now, that's these Cylons, because what I am is more impressive to them and they need me, but I'm not on _their_ side; these Cylons are on mine."  
  
"And the rest of the Five?" Roslin asked. "Where are they?"  
  
"They know now," he said. "Though they're steps behind me, so they don't know much more than that."  
  
"Who are they?" Roslin demanded.  
  
Kara briefly wondered if he would reveal their identities, but since he hadn't when the Cylons had asked, she wasn't surprised when he didn't.  
  
He smiled and leaned back in his chair. "It's not my place to tell you. When they feel safe and ready, when it's time, they'll reveal themselves." His face darkened and he glanced away. "One didn't make it."  
  
That meant he knew one was dead, and in holding that identity back, suggested it wasn't a random person on another ship or killed in the Colonies. Then she realized his words meant the Five could die; he wasn't going to resurrect. She was glad all over again that she'd stopped him at the gas giant. Glancing at her side of the table, she wondered if any of them understood, and thought only the Cylons did. Both Sharons seemed surprised, and the Six glanced at him in alarm.  
  
Sam didn't appear to notice their worry, focused on Roslin.  
  
"I could make their identities a condition of our coalition," Roslin threatened.  
  
"You could. I'd still have to refuse. I knew when the time was right for me; I believe they'll know when it's right, too. Maybe it'll be soon, maybe you'll never know, I don't know. But it's not my choice."  
  
Inwardly Kara shook her head - she'd known he was stubborn before, but she wouldn't want to be the one telling Roslin no.  
  
He sat up again and glanced at D'Anna, before returning his attention to Roslin and Adama. "But right now they aren't important. They'll continue doing what they were doing before and they're no danger to you. We have a better offer than their identities. There is something called a Resurrection Hub, which is the central facility that directs all Cylon resurrections. Resurrection isn't possible without it. It's a ship of sorts and currently in the hands of our enemies. The rebel Cylons are willing to destroy the Hub in exchange for going with you to Earth."  
  
Utter silence fell at that, and even Kara regarded him in surprise at the words. She'd never heard of such a thing, and she wasn't the only one who looked at Athena after the offer.  
  
"Lieutenant?" Adama asked. "Is this place real?"  
  
Because if it was real, Sam had just landed the most significant tactical target in their laps in this whole war.  
  
Sharon didn't meet anyone's eyes as she answered, "Yes. The Hub exists. But it jumps randomly and no one - no Cylon- knows where it is. Unless the rebels have a way to track it, their offer doesn't mean anything."  
  
"I think I can find it," Sam declared, and for a moment his face turned pale as though the thought of finding it was very disturbing to him, until he shrugged it off, "but that's not the only problem. It's heavily defended and the rebel baseship doesn't have the capacity to destroy it. We need nukes. So I propose both groups attack it together."  
  
"This is our atonement," Caprica spoke from her seat beside Sam. Her voice was quiet but strong. "We offer you the end of resurrection for all Cylons, everywhere. We offer permanent death to us all, and give up one of the things which makes us Cylons." Her voice and face softened with deep regret, as she said, "We know we can't ever make up for what we've done, but at least we can do this. And when we end resurrection together, we'll also erase something which makes understanding between our peoples so difficult."  
  
"But," D'Anna added, with a fierce look in her bright blue eyes, "we'll only do it on the condition that we - our ship - journeys with you to Earth."  
  
Roslin's eyes blazed in return, "You surrendered. You have no right to issue conditions."  
  
"We surrendered to Sam," D'Anna corrected, narrowing her eyes, "Not to you."  
  
"D'Anna," Sam warned softly then addressed Roslin, "Look, no one's trying to say what the Cylons did wasn't terribly wrong. They know that. Or at least some of them do. But there's nothing greater than resurrection that they can give up. And they can't - and won't - do this without some sort of promise that it won't be for nothing. Trust me, there's no one more aware than I am about how difficult and painful the idea of Cylons on Earth is. But isn't it a small price to pay for the end of resurrection forever? If, as seems likely, few of them are able to have children, the Cylon race will become extinct. You'll have your revenge eventually, if that's what you want."  
  
It sounded so wrong when he said that, somehow, though it hadn't been long ago that Kara would've wanted that. _Extinct_. _Revenge_. She thought about tiny Iris in Sam's lap and wondered how he could even bear the thought of her being the last of her kind.  
  
Caprica and Sharon both looked worried as if they hadn't considered all the consequences of destroying the Hub, then they looked terribly sad, but resolute, willing to pay the price. D'Anna's face was harder to read, but she didn't seem surprised.  
  
Adama asked, his voice gruffer than usual, "What sort of plan of attack do you have?"  
  
"Your nuclear devices in missiles, attached to powered-down Raptors," D'Anna answered promptly. "Heavy Raiders jump them together and tow them in. Defenses won't go live until the system reads non-Cylon transponders. Then together they blow the hell out of the Hub."  
  
"Won't the other Cylons be expecting an attack?" Lee asked. "After your rebellion?"  
  
"No," Caprica answered. "I don't believe so. Even if he believed we had a way to locate it, attacking the Hub is… madness. The Ones would never believe we'd do it."  
  
"Even if they do, there's little they can do except depend on the Hub's own defenses," D'Anna clarified. "But I agree with Caprica -- the Ones may expect us to attack the resurrection ships, or his ships, but not the Hub. To his mind, that's the same as killing ourselves."  
  
"He doesn't understand the value of a single life, or lifetime," Caprica said softly. "The Ones want us all to be nothing but machines, unfeeling and obedient, but that's not what we are. It's not what we want to be."  
  
Adama spoke brusquely. "We need to discuss this offer. If you four would step outside?"  
  
The Cylons all stood and D'Anna asked, "We would like to see Thea and the child, to make sure they're well."  
  
"Lieutenant Anders can visit them as usual," Adama declared. "The rest of you will have to wait until we decide what to do."  
  
"I appreciate that, admiral," Sam told him, silencing any objection, and with a gesture, urged the three women to precede him, and the marines surrounded them and they were led through the far hatch.  
  
The hatch had barely closed, when Adama stated flatly, "We have to do it. Strategically there's no other choice but take out this Hub and destroy their ability to resurrect."  
  
No one disagreed with that, and Kara nodded.  
  
"There's got to be a catch in it," Lee said.  
  
"There is, they want Earth. And I'm not inclined to give it to them," Roslin said. "Once the Hub is destroyed, how will they insist?"  
  
"You're going to betray them?" Tory demanded incredulously. "After everything they said? After Sam saved the Fleet?"  
  
"I … don't think that's a good idea," Kara said slowly, wishing she had Sam's confidence in his instincts. Give her a battle and she knew what to do but this? This whole situation was frakked up and weird and she didn't know what was right. No, she realized, that wasn't true; she knew Roslin was wrong. It was finding the words that was difficult.  
  
Then she found an argument that was better than any vague claims of the gods or her feelings of discontent. "Do we want the Cylons unified against us again?" she asked. "It's a civil war; There were bodies all over the place. Everyone over there right now wants to be friendly. But if you betray them, they'll react. And while Sam wouldn't want them to attack, especially if it puts Iris in danger, they might stop listening to him, if you snatch Earth away."  
  
Adama listened to her and then asked, "Athena?"  
  
Sharon lifted her eyes to him, ignoring everyone else, and she shook her head. "This is new, Admiral. I didn't think that sort of civil war _could_ happen. When I rebelled, I was the first. And I could only do it because of Hera. This is … immense."  
  
"You believe them," he stated, "that they've changed."  
  
"That they're trying," she said carefully.  
  
Lee knew his father, and he shook his head, "No, you can't be thinking we do this… The Fleet will never stand for Cylon allies."  
  
"They will for us to destroy resurrection," the admiral declared. "We'll deal with the rest afterward."  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
It was a harsh reminder of how much life had changed: it wasn't that long ago he'd been able to visit the brig on his own, at will, and he'd mostly been ignored. Now, he had two guards, and reactions were far more tilted to the hostile than before. At least no one threw anything this time.  
  
It was a bit of a relief when his passing brought indifference. But then he ran into a small knot of people arguing, and when they became aware of his presence, they all looked at him with such intensity he stopped, wondering if they were going to attack him.  
  
One of the people was Bulldog, and he took a step nearer. "Sam. I've been reminding them how you freed me, and you've been teaching these Cylons to change. Not all of them," he raised a hand to put a halt to someone else's attempt at interruption, "but this one ship's worth. That you've been helping us all along."  
  
"But the Colonies--!" someone objected.  
  
"I saw it!" Sam interrupted harshly, silencing the objection. His voice grew stronger, reaching down the corridor. "I was there, on Caprica. I fought them there. I faced their ability to come back, over and over again, on the ground. I saw the ruins of Caprica City, and the empty streets of Delphi. I was there. I'm not asking you to forget what happened. Because I can't either. And I hated them, same as you do." His words were gathering a larger crowd, he realized, and swallowed back the nervousness. He might not get a better chance at this.  
  
He continued, trying to be only himself. Better to be human at this moment, not the oracle. "But things are different now; they're different. This one ship of Cylons, of Sixes, Eights, and Twos -- they changed for me. They learned compassion, they want to start making amends. They let Bulldog here go, they sent food for you, and now they're offering an end to resurrection. They have a way to make themselves mortal, and they want it. There are only ninety of them, that's ninety out of thousands, willing to give up eternal life for their entire race. And all they ask in return is a chance to prove themselves your friends." His voice softened a little more earnest, "Please. I'm just looking for a future where my daughter can grow up safe and loved, not hated for things she didn't do."  
  
"And why should we listen to a toaster?" someone yelled.  
  
But Bulldog answered for him, "Because he's not. Didn't you hear what he said?"  
  
"Like we should believe that," a young man sneered.  
  
Sam held his eyes. "It's the truth. I'm one of the Final Five of the Thirteenth Tribe."  
  
It felt strangely good to speak the words aloud again. The burden of the secret had lifted from his shoulders, and with acceptance had come a feeling of liberation. He knew what he was. He didn't understand it yet, not entirely, but at least denial and secrecy weren't weighing him down any more.  
  
"What does that mean?" a civilian woman wearing the beaded necklace of a lay follower of Demeter asked. "The Thirteenth Tribe? They left Kobol… they went to Earth…" Then her eyes widened in realization. "You're from Earth."  
  
"Then are you a Cylon at all?" another asked, in confusion. "Why are people saying you're a Cylon?"  
  
"Because that's what we call people who aren't human. When we reach Earth, everyone will understand," he assured them. "But first we need to get there, by making Cylon friends and attacking Cylon enemies. People want easy solutions, but this isn't an easy time. But it's all the sweeter to win a difficult match, isn't it? Try the hard thing."  
  
He moved toward the crowd, his guards following him belatedly, and with a squeeze of Bulldog's shoulder in thanks, he went through, as people moved aside. Some moved more grudging than others, but some also seemed more thoughtful than they had been.  
  
At the brig as the heavy door clanged shut behind him, for a brief, uncomfortable moment, Sam wondered if they'd let him out again.  
  
Iris was asleep on the cot, and Thea was reading a book with her legs curled up beneath her. She smiled at him and put the book aside. "I heard what you said in flight," she told him. "I'm so proud of you. They told me the Raiders came to your call."  
  
"They did. All of them. It was impressive." He leaned down to kiss her, letting out a deep breath to try to unknot the anxiety in his shoulders. She patted the bed next to her.  
  
"Tell me what happened," she requested. So he told her, not leaving much out. The only reaction she showed to Kara's return was a tightening of her lips, and he felt guilty all over again, remembering how he'd embraced Kara on the hangar deck.  
  
But that moment passed when he reached the part about the Hub and how they were going to destroy it, and she turned to look into his face with big shocked eyes. "But how will anyone find it?"  
  
"I will. From the Hybrid," he said, and had to swallow at the memory of last time.  
  
She seized his hand and shook her head frantically. "No, Sam, there must be another way."  
  
"I don't think there is. We have to destroy it, and I'm the only one who might be able to find it. I've been in the datastream now --"  
  
"That's not the same!" she interrupted fiercely. "You barely got out last time. You almost died. You have to find another way."  
  
"I could use chamalla," he suggested. "That might work. But to go deep enough, it'd be just as dangerous, I think." He held her hand and raised her fingers to his lips. "It'll be okay, Thea. Have faith."  
  
She picked up Iris and cradled her against her chest, while she leaned back into his arm. "I have faith in you. And in God," she murmured after a moment and added with reluctant acceptance. "You need to do this."  
  
He kissed her hair. "I won't get lost when I have so much to pull me back this time. "  
  
Another moment passed while the three of them cuddled together, trying to stay in their small bubble of peace. "And Kara? Does she really know the way to Earth?"  
  
"She said she had a feeling pulling her there," he answered. "It sounds like what I felt calling me to the Temple. But… I don't know." Leaning against the wall, he shut his eyes, seeing it all again in his memory. More softly he said, "I watched her die. I knew her destiny was incomplete, but I thought I was wrong and she was gone. But… now she's back. Somehow. They all think she's a Cylon, but she's not; I know she's not. But what is she?"  
  
"Is that all the choices there are, Sam?" Thea asked in a murmur. "You're more than that. Why not Kara, too?"  
  
"She's not one of the Five," he insisted and opened his eyes when he felt her hand on his cheek and she laughed softly.  
  
"So many miracles in your life and you want to quantify this one?" she chided.  
  
"Iris isn't the same as coming back from the dead without resurrection," he returned dryly.  
  
"It's the exact same thing," Thea insisted. "They're both **life** , Sam."  
  
The words struck him and he nodded slowly, accepting what she said as true. He took Iris from her, to look into her little face, thinking that she was like Kara in more than being an inexplicable miracle. They were both living, where they shouldn't be.  
  
"Things are different," he told Thea, in warning. "They're changing. Everyone knows what I am now. There's so much confusion …. People don't understand, and they're afraid. And Earth is coming. We're on the right path, but I'm not sure we'll like what we find. Or that we'll all survive to see it."  
  
"You know not all will. But you can only do what they let you," Thea reminded him. "Let the rest go, Sam. My sisters and brothers have to sacrifice; you can't save us from that. And you shouldn't."  
  
He had to admit she was right, even though it twisted somewhere deep inside to know what he was condemning them to. It had to happen, he knew it, he believed it -- for peace, ending resurrection was the only possible sacrifice they could make; but even so, would that doom all of them to final death and no possibility of a new life on the other side? Would there be rebirth or were their souls utterly extinguished into nothingness?  
  
Was he dooming them all to death and extinction? And if he was, was that wrong? It felt wrong, but that was only when he didn't consider how close the Humans had come to extinction themselves.  
  
He stroked Iris' cheek with his finger. At least she was innocent. She was the only purely innocent Cylon life in the galaxy. Maybe she was the only Cylon who would survive to see the new land, and maybe she was the only one who should.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kara watched as the Cylons returned and filtered back into their seats. Sam took his and didn't speak, watching them all with a distant look on his face as if his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.  
  
"We accept your offer," Roslin announced, and managed to make it sound not quite as if she was choking to death on it.  
  
"We will plan and execute a join mission to destroy the Resurrection Hub," the Admiral clarified.  
  
"And Earth?" D'Anna asked. "Because we won't do it if you intend to destroy the Hub and turn around and kill us."  
  
'We won't do that," Roslin said. "I promise."  
  
"Swear it," D'Anna insisted. "Because our brother Leoben already discovered that you don't keep promises to Cylons."  
  
"We have no intention of destroying all of you," Roslin said steadily, looking at D'Anna. "I swear by the Lords of Kobol."  
  
"Well, good," Caprica said with a pleased smile. "We want to be friends."  
  
"Should've thought about that three years ago," Lee snapped.  
  
For a moment, harsh silence fell, and Caprica swallowed. "Yes, we should have. But we didn't understand."  
  
"At least a few of us were friends," Boomer added, glancing down at the table with a sad look. "I'm sorry I ruined that. I never wanted to hurt you, Admiral. I fought it as much as I could."  
  
Adama's look turned a bit fond as he looked at her. "I know."  
  
She glanced up at him, confused, with a hopeful smile. "Sir?"  
  
His smile widened a bit. "You missed."  
  
Sam inhaled a deep breath and put his hands flat on the table. "I don't know how you want to handle mission planning, Admiral. All of you know more about space battles than I do so I think I'll be more use finding the Hub. I'll leave Caprica, D'Anna, and Sharon here for the planning if you like, or your people are welcome on the basestar."  
  
"Leave them here," Adama said, and his gaze met Sam's. "They will be protected." He glanced at Kara. "Starbuck, you should go with him; return the other Viper, we may need it."  
  
"Yes, sir." She knew what he really meant -- bring your proof of Earth.  
  
Sam stood, held for a moment by Caprica's hand on his arm. "Not alone, Sam," she advised. "Have Drea or someone there to remind you of the path."  
  
His lips tightened and he swallowed, but nodded.  
  
"I'd like to speak to Sam for a moment, alone," Roslin said.  
  
"No," Adama said, looking at her in alarm. She put a hand on his arm.  
  
"I need to ask him something. It'll be fine. Won't it, Sam?" she asked.  
  
"Of course," he answered.  
  
Reluctantly, Adama agreed, and ushered everyone out. Kara turned at the door, frowning, and the Cylons seemed reluctant and curious, as well. But they all went.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sam waited as everyone else left, wondering what Roslin wanted to ask him in private that she wasn't willing to talk about in front of the others.  
  
When the hatch shut, leaving them alone, she didn't speak at first. He waited, wondering if she planned to accuse him of being a traitor or tell him the whole plan was a lie and she was going to have them all killed.  
  
Instead she folded her hands on top of the table. "You probably didn't hear what happened at Baltar's trial."  
  
"I know he was acquitted," Sam answered, now thinking that she was going to bring up what she knew about Caprica and Baltar and how he had to know about that and had lied to Cassidy.  
  
Roslin shook her head. "Lee revealed that my cancer's returned."  
  
"I - I'm sorry to hear that," he answered, not knowing what else to say. Now he had no idea what she wanted to talk to him about at all.  
  
"That means, I don't want to wait to get answers," she said. "I have this dream. I think … you're in it. I'm chasing Hera through a large, beautiful theater and there are five robed, glowing figures up on the stage. I think they're the Final Five. So now that I know you're one of them, what is that place?" She asked the question as if she expected an answer, but he was at first stunned to know she had seen it.  
  
"You… you see it, too?" he asked, surprised.  
  
She nodded. "I dream about it. What is it? Why is it important?"  
  
"It's… it's not real," he answered. She nodded again, impatient with the obvious. He continued, speaking slowly as he laid it out for her, and for himself. "As far as I can tell, it was an Opera House on Kobol. It's a … memory … a shadow… of what happened back then. During an opera about the war of the gods - when the rebel lords of Kobol gave fire to humanity and were punished by their brethren -- five scientists created the Psi Alliance. They made an agreement to join their research to transfer memories from death to new bodies."  
  
Her lips parted as if she would speak, but the words didn't come at first, until she whispered, "Resurrection."  
  
"Yes. So I know why I saw it - it's the beginning of the Thirteenth Tribe. My people." And there was more to it, but he didn't think it was his place to mention the rest to her. "I don't know why you dream about it."  
  
Her eyes widened with sudden realization and her hand shot out across the table as if she wanted to clutch at something, finding only her pen. "So then it's the beginning of how the Cylons learned how to defeat death."  
  
"Yes. And now they -- **we** have to learn to accept it again." He remembered the words of the other Kara to him before Kara had gone, and added softly, "I do. No more cheating death. It has to end."  
  
Her eyes met his, suddenly sympathetic and she smiled at him. "I don't think any of us accept death easily. I don't. But I can fight and fight, hold on for one more day, but in the end, my time will come. Not long from now."  
  
"I hope not too soon," he murmured.  
  
She made a gesture with her hand as if to accept and dismiss his words, and went on, "But it makes me wonder how anyone who can live forever could actually give it up for the uncertainty and finality of death." She stared at him, as if thinking he was going to reveal that it was all a trick.  
  
"Because they have nothing else to give," he answered. "To prove they want peace; that they've changed. To make the teams more even." He swallowed. "You realize all of those killed in the civil war may not resurrect. The others on other ships where they weren't as prepared may have been murdered. The only Cylons left in the universe may be the few on that ship out there, and the Ones and their minions."  
  
He leaned closer, staring into her eyes, "You have gone from an enemy of thousands, perhaps millions, to many fewer. But if you betray them - if you break your word to us --" then he reconsidered and clenched a hand on top of the table. "No -- if you break your word to **me** , remember Kobol and what happened when the thirteen tribes fell apart in distrust and hate. There was fire and death. And that, President Rosin, is not a threat," he added, when she drew back a little in alarm and her features tightened. "That's what I know will happen, because that's what happened before. And if we don't break this circle of death and hatred of things that are different, this time there'll be no coming back. There'll be no peace, no new colony, there'll be nothing. Human and Cylon will cease to exist. That's the ending we face and the only way out is together."  
  
He stood up, preparing to leave.  
  
"You believe that?" she asked, her face drawn and pale with her illness but still shining with determination and strength.  
  
But he had his own and his own knowledge, and he could answer honestly, "Yes. One of the Lords of Kobol told me this. I didn't understand at first, but I do now. We have one more chance, Laura. And then, we're done. The slate will be wiped clean and everything we ever were, everything we could ever be, will be gone."  
  
He inhaled a deep breath and said in a steadier voice. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to the basestar and put my hand in the central core and maybe not ever come out again. So I hope you listen."  
  
He'd reached the hatch when her voice stopped him. "I'm listening," she told him. She had to clear her throat and she added, "But realize what you want isn't going to be possible for everyone. Some won't ever accept peace, not after what happened."  
  
He remembered a sharp knife and blood and a man with fevered eyes who refused to accept peace. The low, metal bulkheads seemed to melt away for orange torchlight and stone all around, and the echo of chanting voices rang in his ears. "No, they won't," he agreed. "Maybe they shouldn't, I don't know. But I do know, if we listen to the voices of vengeance, we'll all pay the price this time."  
  
"But there's hope." She didn't say it as a question, but a statement, as if she knew it. She believed, and for that moment, she made him believe, too.  
  



	13. Chapter 13

In the Raptor going back to the basestar, Kara sat in the pilot's seat by reflex and Sam dropped into the second seat with a sigh.   
  
They didn't speak except to run through the flight checklist until they were in space, alone, heading back to the basestar. "Cubit for your thoughts?" Kara asked, when he'd been moodily silent for too long.  
  
He chuckled once dryly. "I was thinking it was only a few years ago, I was playing ball and spending most of my time high on stims. I had no idea about any of this."  
  
She snorted a laugh. "At least you don't have people telling you, you died. And you weren't gone for two months you don’t remember."   
  
"Both happened," he confirmed softly and glanced out the window, away from her, but even in profile she could see his expression was wracked with pain. "I thought it was my fault," he confessed after a moment. "You wouldn't have been there, if not for me."  
  
She didn't know what to say. Was he right? Would it have happened anyway? How could she know when she didn't know what had truly happened? "It wasn't your fault. And I brought back the way to Earth," she offered. "It wasn't for nothing."  
  
He shook his head and gave her a small smile. "You're back. That would've been enough."  
  
She felt warm from his smile and the look in his eyes, the one that told her better than any words could that his feelings were still the same. And it hurt, too, when he was with someone else, but at least he hadn't forgotten her while she'd been 'dead'.   
  
Then she was distracted as a group of Raiders cozied up to them and instinctively she wanted to evade, but when none of them targeted the Raptor, she knew what it was. "Friends of yours?"  
  
Without apparent effort Sam pointed at one of them, "Cerberus. And friends."  
  
"You're a freak, Sam Anders," she declared, only half-kidding.  
  
He stuck out his tongue at her. "Birds of a feather, Kara Thrace."  
  
The Raider squadron escorted them in to the baseship docking bay, and she had to admit she was already getting used to it. As she was getting used to how Sam changed the instant the hatch opened, becoming more in command, more like the resistance leader she remembered from Caprica, and less the easygoing nugget of that year at New Caprica.   
  
She still found Simon creepy, remembering the one on Caprica at the baby farm, but it was reassuring that he came up to Sam to report. "All personnel have relocated to this ship. The Hybrids will commence unification on your order."  
  
"Let's wait on that until I'm finished," Sam ordered. "I need to speak to her. The vote?"  
  
"We're preparing," the Six answered. "I'm not sure anyone is comfortable doing this while Caprica and Sharon are away, though."  
  
"All right," he agreed with a nod. "Later. I need the Hybrid's chamber, or none of it matters." He turned to her, taking a deep breath, "You're going to take your Viper back?"  
  
She shook her head and snorted at him. "You think I’m going to leave you to this? I have no frakking clue what you're doing, but you look sick every time it's mentioned and I get the really bad feeling you can die. So frak leaving you here."  
  
"It's not going to kill me," Sam said, and he tried to sound certain, but Kara didn't believe it. "But fine, if you want to watch." His jaw set as he headed for the main hatch. "Let's get this over with."   
  
  


* * *

  
  
He felt his will to do this wither away the closer they drew to the Hybrid's chamber, until his feet refused to pass the threshold and he felt nauseous and faint, looking into the room. His body remembered the pain, while his conscious mind remembered the utterly overwhelming chaos of it all, feeling utterly lost.   
  
"You don't want to do this," Kara observed, as he hovered in the doorway of the Hybrid chambers.   
  
"No. The last time I put my hand in there, it fried my brain." He inhaled a deep breath and flicked his eyes up to Kara. "Just to warn you -- Thea told me I was screaming and started to bleed from the nose. I passed out. I know more now, so hopefully it won't happen again, but if it does, take me to the docking bay and the Raiders can help."  
  
Kara frowned and bit her lip, looking more worried, "Sam... maybe there's another way."  
  
"I don't think there is. Leoben's right - the Hybrid knows where the Hub is, and I'm the only one who has a chance to find out from her."  
  
She nodded reluctantly. "All right. If you're sure."  
  
He laughed once, shortly. "Not really. But we've got no choice, I know that. It's the only way we'll ever have peace."  
  
Another breath and he strode into the room and knelt beside the Hybrid's pool. "We need to find the Hub." After inhaling a deep breath, he slid his hand into the water. He felt her hand clutch his and then it went black.  
   
The stars in the sky seemed to crack open and spilled their light all over everything, and suddenly he could **see**. The wave of information smothered him, drowned him ...  
  
But he held onto who he was. _I am Samuel Theseus Anders, I am father of Iris_. And he remembered her blue eyes and he remembered who he was.  
  
He was a very small fish tossed by enormous waves, sent spinning and twisting through dark water. He caught glimpses of stars, of black holes that threatened to suck him inside, ships, and planets, all tangled up. He saw things too quickly to understand, and some things he understood entirely too well.  
  
When his mind threatened to buckle under the onslaught, he fought - trying to remember what he came for. The Hub. He needed the Hub.   
  
 _I am one of the Final Five. Show me the Hub._  
  
 _NOW_.  
  
The universe swirled and contracted down -- circles getting smaller, whirling him faster and faster in the vastness of space.  
   
There. He'd never seen it before, but he recognized it anyway.  
  
 _You will keep track of its movements and update the coordinates to the fleet, including the Galactica_ , he ordered with a thought, and knew the Hybrid would do it.   
   
Then he had to get out. But he was lost. Every direction looked the same, and he couldn't get back. The information buffeted him around, and he knew there were important truths in there somewhere, if he could remember them. But moment to moment, there was just too much to hold onto. Past present and future threw him this way and that way, and there was no sense to anything, no order - only chaos tearing him apart.  
  
If he let go, if he surrendered to the stream, he could understand it. He could coax it into some form he could use, if he let it in…  
  
… and his hold slipped…   
  
So much. Everything.   
  
_Where am I? Am I here? What is I? We? yes we are here …. We understand it if we let it in, we let it in and we will see everything… the ship is here, its life blood, its breath, the energy and life, streams of energy of being and life and death and we see all of it and we shape it with our thoughts and beliefs and into all of this we are born and die and return dust to dust and born again the cusp of all this new life is neither created nor destroyed but is endless should be endless and unconfined in the space after but is interrupted in the space between_ …  
   
"SAM!"  
  
Kara's voice reached into the swirl and yanked him back, an irresistible command pulling him free with a shock of a bullet.   
  
He opened his eyes, still deep in the Hybrid's stream and he saw her. She was glowing, in vibrant shades of gold and rose, and for a moment he stared at her beauty, seeing the truth of her hidden inside. She was the Kara from his visions, smiling at him in quiet satisfaction.  
  
As if from a great distance, he heard his own voice say, "You are Kara Thrace. You are the harbinger of death. You will lead them all to their end."  
  
Her eyes flared with horror and surprise at the words. "Sam!"  
   
Then he blinked and he was himself again, mind full of fragments that faded like sand castles on the beach: one moment a shadow of the shape remained and then, the next, they were gone, leaving behind only the memory that they had existed at all.  
  
She was his own Kara, tinged red from the datastream and her expression tight with anxiety.  
   
"Sam?" she leaned down closer. "What was that? What did you mean?"  
  
He remembered saying it, but not why. "I .. don't know. I knew - for a moment - but … it's gone." All that remained was a mix of dread and … elation? - no, that couldn't be what it was, it was probably anxiety. What did that mean, 'harbinger of death' -- was that the destruction of the Hub and the death of the Cylons that would follow? 'You will lead them all to their end' - all the Cylons? Humans and Cylons? Was this going to make everything worse? Or was there another ending, an ending to the repetition of the cycles?   
  
He muttered, "Frakking prophecy." Trying to lift his head, his vision swam dizzily and he put his head back down.   
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
He had to think about that, not quite sure, as if his mind and body weren't working together yet. His body seemed all right, though his mind still felt stunned with the seed of a headache already brewing. "I feel like my brain got sucked out through my ear, but I think I'm okay."   
  
"At least you weren't screaming," Kara offered. "But I don't think you should do it again." She shifted, uneasy, and gnawed at her lip as she watched him, but more in worry that he might spout something ominous about her again than worry about him.   
  
"I don't want to, that's for sure." He tried to sit up and needed Kara's hand on his shoulder to pull, as he groaned, putting both hands to his temples as the nascent headache exploded. "Oh gods. Shoot me before I do that again." He straightened with one last comb of his hands through his hair, trying to push back the headache with a deep breath. "I'm not sure I could've gotten out if you hadn't called me."  
  
Her eyes went to the Hybrid, who had gone back to staring up at the ceiling and reciting her mix of prophecy and reports and random thoughts. "You started to talk like her, like you were sinking," Kara murmured. "I … didn't know what else to do."  
  
His hand was still wet and felt sore from how hard the Hybrid had gripped it, but he took Kara's hand in his and kissed it. "You saved me. Thank you."  
  
"You always need saving," Kara returned lightly, but she didn't let go of his hand.  
   
Their eyes met and he started to lean closer, drawn by her eyes and her mouth, and the warmth of her when he couldn't shake the cold that had settled in his bones.   
  
She didn't move at first, then started to drift nearer, while her fingers gripped his hand.   
  
Leoben's voice interrupted behind them. "You were successful in finding the Hub?"   
  
Sam jerked back, startled by the reminder they weren't alone. "Yes. The Hybrid has the coordinates, and knows to track them if they jump. Tell the others, game on."   
  
Leoben nodded and headed for the datafont in the wall, and when Sam glanced back at Kara, he knew the moment had passed. He tried a smile, that ended up feeling sad. Then he pushed himself up to his feet. "We're ready, I guess."  
  
He glanced at the Hybrid who was back to her usual mutterings. "I ... could learn so much from her. There are still so many gaps in my memories, of who I was and what happened. It's all there - she knows. I glimpsed a bit of it, but it washed away like a dream. If I could --"  
   
With no warning at all, Kara punched him in the shoulder, hard enough to send him staggering backward.  
  
The two Centurions instantly reacted, shifting to defensive postures with weapons extended.   
  
"Stop!" Sam ordered urgently, jumping in between with his hands up to stop them, as Kara grabbed at her sidearm. "Just stop, all of you. Lords, Kara, be careful. What the hell was that for?"  
   
Now that she wasn't going to be shot, she grinned back, unrepentant. "You told me to shoot you if you ever did it again. I figured punching you for thinking about it was the least I could do. Didn't expect them to rush to your defense." She eyed the Centurions uneasily, as the pair of them lowered their arms, but they continued to keep their sensors focused on her as if she was a wild dog loose in the room.  
  
He rubbed his shoulder. She had a mean right cross. "But, Kara -- What if I could find out from her about you? We both could find out what we really are."  
   
That caught her, as he knew it would. She looked tempted, looking at the Hybrid and listening to her mutterings for a moment, and then answered firmly, returning her gaze to his. "No. I've told you this before, and it's still true. The truth isn't worth your life, Sam."   
  
He wasn't as sure of that, but he didn't have the time or strength right then to try again anyway, no matter how tempting all the answers were.  
  
The Centurions settled down another notch, realizing there was no threat. Kara shook her head. "Centurions defending you, Raiders as your guard dogs. Your life is frakked up, you know that?"  
  
He snorted a laugh. "Tell me about it. But you need to take your Viper back, and I have to get to the command center. Leoben, make sure she reaches the docking bay."  
  
"You can find the command center on your own?" Leoben asked, then hesitated as if he thought the doubt might be insulting and he wanted to take the words back   
  
But Sam chuckled. "I won't get lost. Even if I couldn't access the datastream, I know the way." That wasn't counting all the Cylons on the way who'd be willing to help. But he didn't think he'd need it. He raised a hand to Kara. "I'll see you later."  
  
Leoben escorted Kara in the opposite direction toward the docking bay, while Sam headed for the lift and the command center.  
  
It did feel a bit… odd to be unescorted for the first time. He did know the way, but he'd never been alone in the corridors. Not that he was fully alone - there were Centurions and other Cylons cleaning up the bodies of the dead, and he greeted them on his way.  
  
Arriving at the command center he had another happy surprise in a while to see Natalie there.   
  
She saw him first. "Sam!" Her eyes widened with excitement and she approached him, both hands out toward him. "You… It's amazing!" she exclaimed in pure delight. "You're one of the Final Five, and I'm so sorry I doubted--"  
  
He interrupted. "It's all right. It's good to doubt." He clasped her hands and smiled. "I'm so glad you made it back."   
  
Her hair was still damp from resurrection, curling behind her ears, and he was vaguely surprised to find that she had come back with the same hair color, since he'd expected her to come back a pale blonde like the other Sixes. It seemed to prove his instinct that there was more individuation than even the Cylons believed.   
  
"So, you want a vote?" she asked. "Before we destroy the Hub?"  
  
"It's necessary."   
  
"And you know where it is?" Simon asked, drawing near.  
  
"The Hybrid does, and she'll update the location as it changes," he answered.   
  
"Then," Natalie said, "we should begin the vote." She didn't seem to think they'd need Sharon or Caprica or D'Anna, he noticed, and smiled a bit to himself.   
  
As he watched, he decided he wouldn't do this unless the results were overwhelming in favor. This was too big a change to force on them.   
  
But inside a dry voice muttered, _Don't lie to yourself. Questions of mortality, the Colonials, Earth, souls - it's all irrelevant; they have to destroy Cavil's tactical advantage of resurrection, now that it's civil war. And we'll never have peace with the humans until we do this, so you're going to force it through, if you have to._  
  
He saw Vera glance at him, as if to ask for direction, and he smiled at her encouragement. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and waited for the inevitable.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
Kara flew her Viper back to the _Galactica_. Now that she had noticed it was strangely new looking, _everything_ seemed strange about it: it seemed too responsive, and the comm seemed too clear. It was unsettingly perfect.   
  
_What the frak is this about? It's made to duplicate my old Viper, or it's the same one remade. Either way it's creepy_ , she thought and realized she was holding on to the stick with her fingertips as if it might bite her. _Get a grip. It's still just a machine_.   
  
She didn't find herself very convincing, but at least she wrapped her hand around the stick properly.   
  
A Raider was pacing her in formation at her wing, and that was freaky and weird, too. "Are you Sam's little buddy?" she wondered, although she didn't think it could be since that one had still been in the docking bay when she'd left. It didn't answer, and it peeled away to return on a vector to the basestar when she approached _Galactica_.   
  
It was a relief to land, at least until she popped the canopy and saw Tyrol staring at her Viper as if it was a ghost.   
  
"Hey, Chief. Like my ride?" she demanded as she jumped the final three rungs of the ladder he'd pushed up to the cockpit.   
  
Tyrol ran a hand along the fuselage. "It's … new. Like it came out of the factory ship."  
  
She didn't want to hear that. "If you're done making out with it, I need you to pull all the gun camera footage," she told him and smacked the side of the ship, startling him. "Earth, Chief. It's got pictures of Earth."  
  
"On it, Captain."  
  
Later she realized she really should've known better than to get her hopes up. She knew from Sam's example that none of this was easy and photographs would be too easy.  
  
"There's no footage at all, Admiral," Tyrol reported to Adama in the corner of CIC while Tigh and Kara hovered nearby.   
  
"No," Kara insisted, shaking her head. "You did it wrong. It has to be there. I remember it, Chief. I remember the planet, and it was blue and white and beautiful, and the pictures have to be there!" Her voice rose stridently until Dee and Gaeta both glanced their way.   
  
"Maybe the Cylons took it and erased it all while your Viper was there?" Adama suggested, but in such a way that Kara knew he doubted that it had ever existed.  
  
But Tyrol was already shaking his head. "There should be something left, sir. Even if the footage was erased. But these…" he held up the flat box, "they're all blank. Nothing's ever been recorded on them."  
  
"How is that possible?" Adama asked. "They have to have Starbuck's footage from … before."  
  
"They should. If it were her Viper. But it's not. It's marked like hers, with all the right numbers - I even looked for the internal factory spec numbers- but everything is as if it just rolled off the assembly line."  
  
Kara's stomach felt sick from the confirmation that it looked like her Viper, but it wasn't. And what about you, Kara? If the Viper's fake, then what about you?   
  
All three of them looked at her, suspicious, and she shook her head again. "I don't know!" she said in answer to their unvoiced demands. "I woke up in it. That's all I know. But sir," she implored Adama, "images or not, you have to believe me, when we get back from the Hub, I know how to find Earth."   
  
"It's all some kind of trick," Tigh grumbled.  
  
"No, it's not, it's real." She said the words but then she knew she couldn't be so sure. Maybe this was a trick. _You heard Sam - you heard him say that they'll die if they follow you. So maybe leading them to Earth is the last thing you should do_.  
  
And yet, she knew she could do nothing else. That tugging inside pulled her toward Earth. She had to follow it.   
  


* * *

  
  
Sam talked with Vera and Simon who were overseeing the Heavy Raiders. They had all been altered -- their higher brain functions removed utterly so they would remain nothing more than machines and obedient. He found it sickening, he realized, that Cavil had lobotomized them all into becoming his servants, and there was nothing anyone could do to fix them. But on the plus side, that meant the Heavy Raiders couldn't refuse the attack on the Hub, and the Cylon pilots were ready for their missions, to bring the Colonial ships in with the heavier weaponry.   
  
He'd shown them the Hub in the datastream, and they'd all stared in awe, never having seen it before. But luckily the sight of it didn't seem to cause any second-thoughts.  
  
"The voting is complete," Natalie announced. "Except for Caprica, Sharon and D'Anna."   
  
Sam turned, surprised. "So quickly?"  
  
"It wasn't difficult," she said. "The vote is seventy-eight in favor of destroying the Hub to nine against."   
  
He blinked. "Nine? Seriously? That's all?"  
  
She smiled. "Did you think it would be more? I'm surprised it was so many."  
  
He'd expected a majority, but for something so huge, so altering of their entire existence he'd thought there'd be some dissent. "But … I remember… there was so much doubt about what we were doing. The Sixes split--"   
  
She shook her head. "We're committed now, Sam. And all those who would seriously disagree are with our enemies."  
  
"I suppose. Well, I should let _Galactica_ know we're ready, then." He sighed and wished he felt happier about this mission. He should be, he knew; destroying resurrection was what he and every other resistance fighter had prayed for. He knew it was necessary and it was right, for many reasons, but he still felt a deep reluctance as if something inside him objected.  
  
But he pushed it way, figuring it was some strange reaction caused by the Hybrid's stream frakking his brain some more, and declared, "Let's do this."   
  
  



	14. Chapter 14

* * *

 

Kara had brought a Raptor to the basestar, carrying Caprica, Sharon, and D'Anna, and she was ready to get the final update for their objective. As flight lead, the command was hers, and she was glad for Adama's trust in her, even if part of her wondered if that was because he thought she knew more than she claimed about the Cylons.  
  
The Cylon command Heavy Raider was parked nearby, and Boomer and another Eight were in black Cylon flightsuits ready to take Sam on board and tow her Raptor. The rest of the Raptors and Heavy Raiders were out in space, getting ready to join together, under the watchful, nervous eyes of their command ships. It was all a tense mess, and Kara wanted to get out there as soon as she could.  
  
Sam arrived, with a Six and Simon, and approached her. He was back in his Colonial flightsuit, zipped up over his lean form, and he held his helmet in one hand.  
  
"Ready?" Kara asked him.  
  
"We're ready," he answered, and there weren't too many people who would know he was forcing that smile. But his brow was furrowed and the creases at the corners of his eyes were from pain, not a smile. But she couldn't say anything about it, here in front of everyone, so she just smiled back.  
  
"Then, we're go, good hunting everyone," she called and headed back to her Raptor.  
  
A loud screeching noise shocked her, and she turned, hand on her sidearm to see what the hell was happening. Sam was halfway to the Heavy Raider, but he was staring at the Raider who was hovering over the platform with its red sensor fixed on him and wings wobbling in agitation.  
  
Sam's helmet dropped from his hand and rolled in Kara's direction. She stopped it with her foot, watching as Sam 'listened' to his pet Raider.  
  
His face showed his reaction to his half of the 'conversation' as if he was speaking to someone on the wireless, mostly annoyance and coaxing, before breaking it off with a resigned but amused smile, shaking his head. "Cerberus is unwilling to let a Heavy Raider carry me. Heavy Raiders shot at me, so they can't be trusted."  
  
Kara thought that was pretty frakking hilarious, that a Raider believed a Heavy Raider was untrustworthy? "Y'know, Sam, normal people get a dog," she teased and then grinned at the frown he shot her.  
  
"I'm looking for normal, and I don't see it anywhere," he retorted with a deliberate glance up and down her body.  
  
The Six broke into the humor, suggesting to Sam, "You should stay here. There's no reason to risk yourself."  
  
"I… " he hesitated, and his blue eyes focused on something unseen before he said, "I may be able to help. And I have to watch."  
  
For an instant, a heavy darkness seemed to lay over him, a deep and terrible burden. And Kara remembered what he'd said about the Cylon race eventually going extinct.  
  
She picked up his helmet and threw it at him. Startled, only pyramid-honed instincts helped him catch and hold it. "Be my co-pilot. The Raptor will be our command ship." The instant the suggestion left her mouth she wanted to take it back. Did she really want to be stuck in a Raptor with him for this entire mission? "Will your guard dog accept that?"  
  
He seemed to have the same uncertainties, licking his lips and glancing at her, to Cerberus, Caprica, and back to Kara, then he nodded. "Sounds like a plan."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
In the Raptor, they headed out into space and then powered back down, to allow the Heavy Raider to tow them.  
  
The Heavy Raider looked very large, looming above them, as it came into position. "You're sure this will work? The turkeys won't turn on us?" she asked in a low voice, as if it could hear.  
  
"Boomer and Vera are in there," he answered. "It'll be fine."  
  
"Good." Plus it was strangely comforting to spy the small squadron of Raiders off the starboard side, shadowing them protectively. Cerberus knew where Sam was, and it wasn't going to let anything happen to him.  
  
"So," Kara said, after the Raptor had gone silent. "We've got time to kill. When did you know?"  
  
In the co-pilot's chair, dressed in his flightsuit, but with the helmet tucked beside him, Sam's gaze didn't shift from watching the narrow band of stars visible beneath the Heavy Raider fuselage. He didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "Caprica. Before we met. It's hard to explain. It was like a switch in my head flipped, and I knew I was different. I … didn't want to admit it for a long, long time," he added more softly. "I lied to the Cylons, to you, to myself; I nearly drove myself insane in an effort to push it away. You can't know what a relief it was to finally say it aloud. Even if I don't understand it fully, at least I don't have to hide, or worry about what I say or do in case it gives something away. No matter what the consequences might be, in the end, at least I'll have this time where I could live with the truth."  
  
She nodded. "It's still strange," she admitted. "Thinking of you as a Cylon, even if I know you're not exactly like the others. But I can't be angry you didn't say anything. Until recently, it could've been like Boomer all over again." She glanced up at the Heavy Raider, thinking of the Cylon in there, who had been Helo's former pilot and her friend. Even though Kara liked Sharon - Athena - well enough, it had never been the same with her, as it had been with Boomer before the attacks.  
  
"Yes, the thought did occur to me," Sam said dryly.  
  
The fact that it could still be like Boomer -- some human could shoot him dead, just for being a Cylon-- lay in the silence for a moment.  
  
"But you won't resurrect?" she asked.  
  
He shrugged tightly. "I don't think so. I … have visions that seem to indicate I don't. I don't feel the resurrection ships, as the others do. They can always tell if they're in range to download. But I'm still learning all the things I can do." He paused and his fingers reached out absently to trace the edge of the console as if his hand were missing the sleek, watery interfaces of the Cylon ship instead of the clunky dials and buttons of the human ship. "I'd like to capture another Cavil and interrogate him about everything. Frakker knows things he never shared. I’m sure he knew about me all along." His expression darkened, and she remembered what he'd said about how Cavil had tortured him.  
  
To brighten the darkness, she quipped, "One Cavil to interrogate. I'll see what I can do for your birthday."  
  
He chuckled, pulled out of his memories. "That would be the perfect present."  
  
"I'll even put a nice ribbon around his neck."  
  
His chuckle turned into laughter, amused by the vision. "Oh god, he would hate that. So much."  
  
The wireless clicked and they heard, " _Raptor One, Boomer. We are go for jump on your command_."  
  
Sam reached for the wireless and opened the channel. "You have the final update from the Hybrid?"  
  
" _Confirmed, Oracle_ ," Boomer answered.  
  
Sam glanced at her and she lifted her helmet in answer. "Go ahead," she said. "This is kind of your show."  
  
He put on his helmet and tested the wireless. Then, to her surprise, he widened the comm to all channels and announced, "This is Anders to the joined fleet, Human and Cylon. For the first time, maybe the first time ever, both races are going to work together on this mission. We will destroy the Cylon Resurrection Hub, to bring Cylons the same mortality as humans, and take away that advantage of resurrection against the enemies we share. The Cylons offered this secret in the spirit of atonement and friendship and in the hope that this will not be the only partnership between this renegade group of Cylons and Humanity. To those on this mission, good hunting. Prepare for jump in ten seconds. In nine."  
  
While he counted down, she muttered for him alone, "Apparently Cylons speechify a lot more."  
  
He rolled his eyes at her, and finished the count. "Jump."  
  
The jump field enfolded them and they were gone.  
  
Kara checked their coordinates. "Well, thank the gods, first jump complete, all present. Six more to go. This is worse than the trip back to Caprica to rescue your ass." She grinned at him, and he snorted.  
  
He flicked the switch to go to a private channel on their helmet comms. "Pretty sure I thanked you for that already," he retorted, and darted a smiling suggestive glance at her. "Many times."  
  
"You say that like that's enough," she answered. "Never."  
  
Their eyes met and her smile faded as she realized their once easy flirtation that could lead to more, was gone. She tried to tell herself he was a Cylon, so it was impossible anyway, but that had lost its bite.  
  
But the reminder of baby Iris hadn't. While a part of her wanted to jump him because he was there and she knew he wanted it, too, nothing really had changed since the other day -- two months ago -- when she'd realized he was part of another family that she didn't want to destroy.  
  
Kara looked away, muttering, "Damn it."  
  
Sam didn't speak at first, then said awkwardly, "I knew this was a bad idea. I remember too much - things I want again. And you're over there, so close, come back to me… frak, this is hard."  
  
"You two aren't married," Kara said abruptly. "We could--"  
  
He interrupted, "No. No, I can't. And even if I could," he laughed once in bitter humor, "the Sixes would probably kill me, or break the alliance, and I can't let that happen."  
  
She raised her brows, surprised, since she hadn't considered that side of the politics of his position. "So you're stuck with her forever, because her sisters will kill you if you leave? Sam, no, that's horrible and wrong --"  
  
"That's not what I meant," he protested. "I was kidding."  
  
 _No, you weren't_ , but she didn't say it aloud. _You meant it. Maybe you don't want out right now, but you know you're trapped until they let you go_.  
  
"They're not going to kill me," he added hastily. "I'm one of the Five and all that. They won't." Then he cleared his throat and looked down at the board, seeing the signal of the other wireless and eager to change the subject. "Looks like all ships are ready to jump again. Why don't you do it this time?"  
  
Giving him one last troubled glance, which he ignored, she focused on the mission, checking everyone's status and the next jump.  
  
After that they resolutely attempted to keep their conversation on the task at hand, sharing rations and some water at a break while they waited for one Heavy Raider/Raptor combo to find their way back to the jump point.  
  
But in the silence, she could feel that … tugging, as if someone was pulling on a string that was lodged inside her. "Sam? What was it like? You said you felt the Temple of Five calling to you - what did that feel like?"  
  
"Like music. Like I was hearing distant music," he answered. "No one else heard it, but when I listened, I could focus on it and get a direction. After I visited the Hybrid that first time, it was all I heard. It was," he hesitated and fiddled with the console unnecessarily, "difficult."  
  
"Do you think you can teach me?" she asked. He glanced at her in surprise, and she gave a small shrug and tentative smile. "I feel Earth pulling at me, but if I'm supposed to go there, I have no idea how to find it or show anyone else how to get there."  
  
For a moment his expression was reluctant, as if helping her do this was the last thing he wanted to do, but then he nodded. "Sure. I can try."  
  
"You believe me, don't you?" she asked.  
  
"Of course," he answered, as if it was inconceivable not to. Then he smiled a little. "I saw you on Earth, remember? I thought I'd frakked that up when you … went away, but now I know I was right."  
  
She nodded, and frowned, lip sticking out. "They all think I'm a Cylon. Even though you and Doc Cottle say I'm not. There was no video proof from my Viper, so I don't think the Admiral believes me. What if they won't listen to me?"  
  
He reached across to squeeze her arm. "Hey, I believe you. And if I believe you, the baseship will believe you. And trust me, whether the Admiral believes you or not, there's no way he's letting the Cylons go there alone."  
  
She chuckled, knowing that much was right, then her humor drifted away, recalling Roslin's desire to strand the Cylons away from Earth. Roslin didn't want the Cylons there at all. She'd issued no orders about turning against them, but Kara knew she'd likely be out of the loop if there were.  
  
Then she glanced at Sam, remembering what he'd said after touching the Hybrid, and all her misgivings came back in a rush. "What if we're not supposed to go there?" she asked more softly, worried. "You said - I was the harbinger of death, Sam. That I'm going to lead them all to their end. That was a warning."  
  
"Maybe. Prophecy doesn't always mean the obvious." He shrugged.  
  
Her eyes narrowed at him. She knew him well enough to know when he was avoiding a real answer. "You know what it means."  
  
"I know what I think it means," he admitted. "I don't think the Cylons would've thought about destroying the Hub until you came back with the path to Earth. So in a way, you have brought death to them."  
  
"That's all?" she asked doubtfully. "It was ominous, Sam. Actually, no, it was _creepy_. It wasn't you saying those words."  
  
"You think it was creepy to hear; you should've been the one saying it," he muttered and shuddered. "The gods are shoving us into place, Kara. That's all any of this is."  
  
She wondered if that was all there was, but there was no chance to persist because they were jumping again, and then there was only one more to come.  
  
She broadcast on the wireless. "All Colonial ships prepare to go silent. Cylon pilots, it's showtime. Let's blow this thing and go home. Boomer, you have lead."  
  
Boomer returned, " _Understood, Starbuck. All pilots, Lock in coordinates and jump on my mark_."  
  
Kara turned off the last switch, silencing all but passive comms, and the sudden silence - audible more by the lack of vibration than anything she could hear through the helmet anyway - fell over them. She watched tensely as the Heavy Raiders started to wink out, and then it was their own turn.  
  
The distortion of jump rippled across the window, smearing the starfield, and then it snapped back into place. She peered all around in the black and starlight, seeing nothing, wishing in vain for a dradis. And then the Heavy Raider shifted course slightly and she saw two basestars glimmering all silver in the dark. And then… something else. It reminded her of the Resurrection ship, but larger and more spherical, it grew larger and larger the closer they came. "Oh, dear gods, is that it?" she whispered.  
  
Sam leaned forward, too, both hands flat on the console, as he stared at it avidly.  
  
There were lights on it, she realized, deep purple and blue lights that emphasized its curves. It was strangely beautiful, she thought and wanted to paint it.  
  
They coasted closer and closer, apparently going unnoticed by the basestars or the Hub itself.  
  
"They're gonna see us," Kara muttered. "This isn't going to work." Her hand hovered above the restart button.  
  
"Just wait," Sam murmured. "We need to be closer."  
  
"I know, I know." But even as she waited, she grew tenser. The worst part was that none of it was in her control right now; she was a passenger, nothing more, and she wanted to start the engines and launch the missiles, right now. She tapped her fingers of her left hand, waiting. Soon, it had to be soon.  
  
The basestars started to loom, and the Hub's arms glimmered indigo and violet, the complexity of the arches and spires becoming clearer and more like lattice-work, woven together in curves and spirals.  
  
Boomer's voice came over the comm, " _To all pilots, outer range reached. You are go for operation. God be with us._ "  
  
Kara slapped the restart, as the ship trembled. "Clamps retracting," Boomer told them. The ship shook again, rougher this time, and then the vector changed, as they were nudged away. Kara didn't need Boomer's report, " _Starbuck, Oracle, you are free to maneuver_."  
  
The engines powered up from their hibernation, and she had time to glance at Sam with a triumphant grin. "You ready?"  
  
"Ready."  
  
The console flared to life - dradis up, weapons, jump engines, all came alive. "Let's blow this frakker to hell."  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sam could barely tear his eyes away from the Hub. It was a crystalline sea urchin, rotating slowly, gleaming like a jewel among the black. He clenched his hands on the controls to keep from blurting anything about leaving it alone, especially as it soon blossomed with fire as the first missiles struck it. There were Cylons on that ship - born and unborn, boxed souls now going up in flames.  
  
Kara launched their two missiles and didn't wait to see the strike, whirling the Raptor away. "Prepare jump."  
  
He ignored the pilots' triumphant chatter over comms as the Hub splintered apart, and he ignored other cries of dismay as the baseships' inevitable counter attack reached the alliance.  
  
A fleet of Raiders headed for them, while the baseships rained missiles at them. From a distance he tried to engage the Raiders mentally, and turn them back. But they continued to attack.  
  
He saw Heavy Raiders - his allies, his friends- he _felt_ them explode into fireballs. And Raptors struck and shattered, as the wave of the counterattack came at them.  
  
He couldn't breathe. His heart felt too tight, unable to beat in his chest.  
  
 _They were dying._  
  
"Oracle, stop them!" someone yelled at him in desperation.  
  
He reached out, straining to touch just one, but the Raiders didn't hear him. They'd been deafened. "I … can't. They can't hear me." The words would barely emerge from his throat, strangled by the feel of them dying all around him, pressing on him… each light, each potential life, extinguished.  
  
"Sam, prepare jump!" Kara ordered, trying to rouse him, but he heard her words distantly, as if they were not meant for him. She evaded another two Raiders and he tried to reach them, to make them stop - stretching out to find them, but there was nothing there. They were gone, nothing but machines, empty. Dead.  
  
Kara shouted impatiently, and dodged debris and persistent Raiders. "Jump us or we're dying here! **Sam**!"  
  
He couldn't stir. A heavy darkness lay over him, suffocating and blinding, and even though he pushed at it, he felt weak under its weight. He suddenly tasted the dust of the avalanche that long ago buried him alive. And somewhere on the other side of all that death and darkness, if he could just move it, he knew was the past.  
  
The truth.  
  
He clawed at the stones and the weight and the dark, trying to push them aside to find the light.  
  
Then, an urgent hand shook his shoulder and then smacked him across the cheek. "Sam!"  
  
He opened his eyes, panting for breath as if he'd been underwater. The heavy dark was gone. He blinked to find Kara glaring at him, angry and worried. "What the frak is wrong with you?" she demanded.  
  
He looked past her to see unfamiliar and empty space. They'd jumped. "Where are we?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
"I don't know, since I had to jump us blind. Because you were too busy having your … whatever the hell that was. I knew flying with you was a frakking bad plan!"  
  
"I… I'm sorry," he managed and pushed himself more upright in his seat, finding his muscles were tight and he ached all over.  
  
More calmly, she asked, "What happened?"  
  
"I … felt them die." He put a hand against his chest, where his heart was still thudding hard against his ribs. He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath, trying to find calm again. "I was trying to reach the Raiders, and I … was too open, I guess. I don't know - the last time I felt anything like it was when Cerberus died at the algae planet, but this was everyone."  
  
She settled back on her heels, regarding him with a frown of concern. "As long as you're all right now?"  
  
He stretched his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders to loosen up, and answered, "I'm okay. Let's get back to the Fleet."  
  
"Okay. Let's hope it's that easy, "she said and slid back into her seat to check the dradis and the charts.  
  
Sam felt guilty for not helping, but not guilty enough to actually do anything about it. He felt weak and fragile, like a soap bubble floating in the wind, and his head pounded. He closed his eyes and rested while Kara tried to find the way home. He didn't feel worried, though. One of them would be able to find it; he was sure of that.  
  
"What the hell?" she exclaimed, in such a strange tone of voice he opened his eyes again to look at her. "That's not frakking possible," she muttered.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"We're in a planetary system," she answered and her fingers clicked on the keys. "This star was way out of our range. We can't have jumped all that in one jump. Not possible."  
  
"I think, given that you came back from the dead and I just felt the deaths of a thousand Cylons like they were my own, we should probably recalibrate 'possible'," he suggested dryly. She gave him a look that said she wanted to argue, but couldn't. He asked, "Are we at Earth?"  
  
"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?"  
  
He was pretty sure it was Earth -- where else was a mysterious too-big jump going to send them? -- but it was fun to be able to toss it back in her lap. He snorted. "You get the Earth deal. I get Cylons. So is it Earth?"  
  
"I.. " she hesitated and her hands paused on the controls, as she looked out the window. There was no planet visible in the deep blackness of space, no matter how hard he looked, but she seemed to see something. Then she nodded slowly. "Yes. I think this is the place. It feels… right. It's…" she lifted a hand and pointed, "that way."  
  
He leaned forward. "Then let's go check it out."  
  
Their eyes met, excited and hopeful, and then, as one, turned to start calculating the short jump to take them into system. This time, Sam had the coordinates in a flash, and it must have been the excitement helping because he didn't even need the computer to calculate the coordinates. He input them, let Kara check them, and then she jumped the Raptor.  
  
As soon as the distortion field faded, it was right there. Exactly as he'd seen it before -- a blue and white sphere floating against a backdrop of night. Part of the ocean was in night and dark, but the part that was facing the star was brilliant and beautiful with clouds swirling thickly above sea and land.  
  
"That's it," he whispered. He stared at it, in awe. His eyes grew hot and filled with tears, as a sense of longing and grief rose in his chest and choked his throat. "That's it. That's … home."  
  
"We did it!" she exclaimed, slapping both hands on the console in triumph and not noticing his reaction. "We did it, it's right there, Sam!" she seized his shoulder and pulled him toward her. "We found Earth."  
  
She bent down and kissed him, her joy overwhelming good sense and the careful distance they'd been trying to keep. Her hand pulled at his hair and her mouth was hot against his, as she put a leg over his to sit on his lap. He pulled her into him, seeking solace and warmth, after all those long days of swimming in his own guilt and grief, when now she had come back to him.  
  
It had been so long, and he knew dimly they should stop. But he'd done this before -- but it hadn't been Kara, had it? And yet it felt exactly the same. Maybe he could've stopped, but the feel of her lips and her hands after she pulled down the zipper of his suit echoed through him, memory and reality tangling together. "Kara, missed you so much," he mumbled against her skin, between tastes of her neck and the hollow of her throat. His hands skimmed her hips and waist, but he could barely feel her beneath the slick flight suit. Yanking down her zipper, he tried to push her suit off her shoulders, but she was sliding her hands underneath his tank with her palms on his skin.  
  
"Kara," he meant it to be an objection, but came out as a plea for more, and he curled a hand around the back of her neck to bring her lips back to his. His other hand pawed aside her suit, to find her skin, too, and shoved down her front, his hand catching on the zipper's teeth with a scratch, as his fingers slid on her underwear between her legs. It was uncomfortable with his arm twisted around, but it felt so good to touch her and feel her squirm against him, he didn't care.  
  
She jerked and bit at his lower lip, as her hips pushed against his hand. "Still feel human to me," she said.  
  
And so did she -- she felt human and warm and alive -- but the words also were a reminder, that no matter what they felt like, they weren't. They were different than human and they had a purpose in this life. That purpose wasn't to frak each other in janitorial closets or Raptors, no matter how wonderful it felt.  
  
She felt his withdrawal before he moved his hands, and lifted her head back, to look into his eyes. "Damn it, Sam--"  
  
He pulled his hands away from her, reluctantly. "I shouldn't."  
  
She climbed off his legs to stand between the chairs. "That's not the same as 'don't want to.'"  
  
"Obviously I want to," he answered shortly, glancing away, and zipped his flightsuit back up like it was armor to keep her away, or keep himself inside. "I've never not wanted to, Kara. But it's not that easy."  
  
"Gods-damned toasters," she muttered but dropped back into her chair.  
  
"Frakking monkeys," he muttered back, mocking her tone.  
  
Her startled glance at his return insult was amusing enough, but then she let out a sharp disgruntled sigh that made him chuckle.  
  
With more force than necessary, she slapped the video recording buttons. "There, we'll get plenty of footage to show them this time."  
  
"Then we land?" he suggested. She shook her head.  
  
"Not enough fuel to take off and jump back, unless you're sure the gods will take us back to the Fleet in only one jump."  
  
"No," he answered, disappointed. "Too bad, though. Wish we had pictures to show them of the ground. I've seen a city," he said, remembering the vision of Kara there among the towers by the sea, "gardens… sunlight. I can't wait to see it for real."  
  
"Soon enough," she promised. "And we'll bring the fleet back with us."  
  
He looked away from the planet hovering in the distance with reluctance. "Let's head back; I don't want to get there too late."  
  
"Afraid they'll do something reckless and stupid without you?" Kara teased.  
  
"Actually, yes," he chuckled, a little ruefully. "But now I have the coordinates, too, so even if Roslin turns on us after all, I'll bring them here."  
  
She gave him a mischievous smile. "Oh yeah? What if I don't want you to?"  
  
He leaned back and placed one boot on the console and then crossed his ankles, folding his hands across his stomach, and grinned smugly. "Right. And who can summon Raiders without a wireless? What makes you think you can stop me?"  
  
"Try me," she returned.  
  
He pursed his lips, in deep consideration, and then allowed with teasing reluctance, "Hm, good point, you did come back from the dead. now that you're the only one who can..."  
  
Instead of teasing back, she looked away, clenching her jaw as if she was fighting the urge to be sick.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, dropping the pretense and leaning toward her in concern. "Kara?"  
  
"Nothing." It was clearly not nothing, but then she said, "I have the coordinates for the first jump back. Check them and input. Let's go."  
  
He glanced at her, wanting to persist, but held his tongue. It wasn't his place anymore, when he could be nothing more than her friend.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
 _Earth_.  
  
It hummed inside her. Not a song, but a strange knowing. She knew where it was - now behind them - and though she wanted to stay and it hurt to leave, she jumped them away from it.  
  
She was annoyed by his pulling away, even though she knew she'd been the one to push the situation. For those few moments, kissing him with the planet beneath them, everything had felt **right** again. She'd felt like herself, like she belonged. Like she wasn't this imposter that might be leading them all to their deaths.  
  
And then he had to go remind her that she might not even be real. No, it was a mistake. _There was no death. I was just_... But she didn't know. Maybe she was a Cylon, too, and she'd resurrected somehow; it wasn't as if Sam and Cottle were infallible. Sam had admitted he didn't understand what was going on. Or maybe she had never died at all. Maybe she'd been held prisoner by the Cylons for awhile, unconscious, and then released.  
  
 _If that's true, then are you really a tool for the enemy? Are you leading the Fleet to its doom_?  
  
But Earth was real. Now she'd been there and she'd seen it. And Sam had seen it with her, so it was real. It wasn't a trap. Which made her feel better that maybe her knowledge of Earth was a good thing. Like when Sam had just known that New Caprica would turn bad, so she knew that Earth was where everyone had to go.  
  
After their second jump, Sam's head suddenly snapped up, as if he heard something.  
  
"Sam?" she asked, but he held up a hand to quiet her, listening intently.  
  
"Something's wrong," he murmured and rubbed his arms as if he was cold. He frowned, lips parting as his eyes sank shut to a mere slits of concentration. "There's something here."  
  
She glanced at the dradis, which was completely empty and felt a chill. "Cylons?"  
  
"I don't know, maybe. I just feel…. We need to go."  
  
Feeling distinctly creeped out, she hurried with the next coordinates and even though the engines weren't quite ready, she jumped them anyway, making a shorter jump to compensate.  
  
He straightened and let out a breath when they'd jumped away. "Gone," he said with relief and shook himself. "It was like eyes on us."  
  
"There was nothing on dradis," she said.  
  
"I felt something," he insisted defensively, as if she was telling him he'd imagined it. "There was something there."  
  
"I'm not saying there wasn't," she told him. "Just, whatever it was, there was nothing in range. What do you think it was?"  
  
"Cylons make sense, I guess," he answered, but without the certainty that would've been comforting.  
  
Not that the watcher being Cylons was good news, but it was better than imagining there were _other_ things out there watching them in the darkness of space. "What else could it be?"  
  
"This isn't science," he snapped in sudden irritation. "I hallucinate shit all the time. My brain's been skewered twice in the last day, so who the frak knows if it was real at all." He smacked the arms of his chair in a burst of temper. "I never know anything, until it's too frakking late."  
  
She eyed him, until he let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Sorry," he muttered. "Let's just go home. I'm sure it was nothing."  
  
She didn't believe that for a second but she didn't argue. "Moody, aren't you?" she asked and shook her head. He didn't respond, so she plotted the next jump herself in silence. When she was done, intending to ask him if he was ready, he was pressing his temples with both hands.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" she asked.  
  
He took his hands away hurriedly as if caught doing something wrong, and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Headache."  
  
She was less willing to buy the casual answer, when he'd flinched so guiltily. "Bad?"  
  
"I'm used to it."  
  
Which answered the question. "Caused by whatever you felt last jump?" she asked.  
  
"By everything," he answered with a snort. "The Hybrid, the Hub, all of it. I don't think I'm supposed to do some of the things I do. Like I'm reaching through a crack in a wall to grab a live wire, and it burns me every time."  
  
"Then stop doing it!" she told him tartly, shaking her head.  
  
"I can't!" he flared, but then shrugged, looking weary. "I need this alliance; I have to do what I can to get peace. I…" his gaze wandered to the stars beyond the canopy window, and his voice sank to a murmur, "I have dreams where I hear Iris crying, and sometimes I know it's humans who have her, and sometimes it's Cavil, but it never matters because I know they're going to kill her and I can't get there in time."  
  
"Oh, Sam…" she murmured, heart twisting with pity for him.  
  
He ignored her softly spoken sympathy, and added, "I know it's just a nightmare, but it could still come true. I don't have a choice. I have to push deeper into that crack, chip away at it, and keep her as safe as I can."  
  
"Sam…" she started, wanting to protest and tell him that he might be killing himself doing this. But he knew that. She swallowed hard, before reaching across the gap between the two seats to grab his arm. "You know there are people who'll protect her, right? I'd never let anything happen to her. Or Helo or Duck, or Barolay. Or all the Cylons on that baseship. You're not alone."  
  
His eyes flicked to her as he forced a faint smile. "Thanks."  
  
She didn't think he believed her. Or maybe he didn't believe that it would make a difference. But then, there was a lingering frown between his brows and drawn look at the corners of his mouth that said his head was still bothering him, so maybe that's all it was. "Why don't you rest? I can jump us back." Then uneasy with how heavy everything had gotten, she teased, "Without freaky Cylon superpowers."  
  
"Says the woman who blew up with her ship and came back," he retorted.  
  
She snorted. "Weak, Anders. Get some sleep."  
  
Smiling he closed his eyes, while Kara took them back to the fleet, wondering what they'd find when they got there with their news.  
  
  



	15. Chapter 15

Sharon and Vera jumped back to the Fleet, flush with success. The baseship had nearly finished melding with the broken one, and it now looked intact, but with an extra arm.  
  
A quick scan proved they were the first of the attack squadron to make it back, and Galactica and the baseship were already orienting defensively toward her Heavy Raider, so she made sure to turn on all-frequencies. "Baseship,  _Galactica_ , this is Boomer. I can report mission success. The Hub is destroyed."  
  
A Six's voice answered, " _Excellent news, Boomer. Casualties_?"  
  
"Uncertain yet," Sharon answered. "I know we lost two Heavy Raiders, and one Raptor, at least. There was a lot of resistance from the two baseships guarding the Hub. Everyone scattered in the battle."  
  
" _Which Raptor was lost_?" Helo's voice asked from  _Galactica_ , and Boomer remembered him well enough to hear the tension, wondering if his wife, or one of his friends was dead.  
  
"Not Athena's, Helo," she reassured him. "And not Starbuck's." She sent a silent prayer to God for that one -- it was only now she realized how foolish they'd been to have Kara and Sam both in the same Raptor. "They were both under attack, but alive last I saw. I don't know which of the other Raptors it was; I'm sorry."  
  
" _Understood. Hopefully the others will know more_ ," Helo said, acknowledging that the Heavy Raiders would be able to jump back faster.  
  
"We'll wait out here, in case we have to go on S&R," Boomer offered.  
  
After they finished talking to the ships, she held the Heavy Raider off station, not far from the baseship, and they waited for the rest to arrive.  
  
"Do you feel different?" Vera asked. "I still know the resurrection ship is in range. I thought it should feel different to know resurrection is gone."  
  
Sharon closed her eyes to concentrate, and though she could feel what Vera felt, the link to the resurrection ship was still there, there was something different. But she wasn't sure it had anything to do with the Hub - maybe it had only to do with herself. She felt more … comfortable. She was a Cylon, she was an Eight, but more importantly, she was Sharon Valerii. She was … unique.  
  
"We are different," Sharon said. "All of us. But that change started before the Hub was destroyed; we've only insured we can't go back."  
  
"It's a little scary," Vera admitted. "At least we have you, Sharon. You've lived it before, so you help us."  
  
Sharon smiled at her little sister, and watched as more Heavy Raiders arrived, followed by the Raptors. Some of them had found each other and jumped back together, which pleased her even more.  
  
It was so exciting to see the two working together, and she hoped Sam would arrive soon to see it, too.  
  
But as minutes turned to hours, and Raptor 175 didn't come back, she began to get an uneasy twist in her gut.  
  
Athena arrived and passed on the disturbing news that 175 had jumped late, pressed hard by Raiders which Sam hadn't been able to reach. But at least they had jumped out. Starbuck would never make a jump error, that was inconceivable. So where were they?  
  
The baseship and  _Galactica_  conferred, and Sharon was uneasy by how quickly the tone started to change. 175 was the only Raptor missing; all other Raptors and Heavy Raiders were returned or confirmed destroyed.  
  
Dualla repeated, " _Galactica requests the flight logs of all Heavy Raiders, to see if we can determine a vector for our missing Raptor_."  
  
D'Anna demanded, " _Are you accusing us of something? No one hopes that Raptor returns more than we do. We'll send Heavy Raiders out to search_."  
  
After a moment, Dualla said, " _We can coordinate a search with our Raptors_."  
  
" _Unnecessary. Heavy Raiders have better sensors and can cover more territory quickly. We'll find them_."  
  
" _They are our missing personnel, baseship. We will search for them_."  
  
" _Oh, now you claim them_?" D'Anna returned scornfully. " _A Final Five Cylon and someone else you believe is a secret Cylon? Two people you'd just as soon were gone so you could destroy us with impunity? Except they have the way to Earth so you can't. And now they've disappeared, upsetting your plans_."  
  
Helo took over the wireless to say, " _I don't know what plans you think we have, but our only plan is to find our missing Raptor and bring them home._ "  
  
Sharon intervened then, activating the wireless to join the channel, "Baseship,  _Galactica_ , this is Boomer. If the Raptors search sectors one through about fifty in a standard Fleet search pattern, the Heavy Raiders can start farther out. I'd be happy to coordinate it." She stared at the wireless, hoping her thoughts could somehow reach them all:  _come on, you guys, stop this. We didn't get here to have it all fall apart in a day_.  
  
There was a pause and a Six voice, " _This is the baseship. We concur with Boomer's plan. We seek cooperation, and apologize for our … anxiety_."  
  
She couldn't tell if it was Natalie or Caprica, but from the irritation in her voice, Sharon knew that both of them had probably had a discussion with D'Anna about how not to spoil their fragile alliance.  
  
Then distortion on the sensors caught her eye and she watched in the stream as a Raptor appeared, smack between  _Galactica_  and the baseship, and Sharon grinned. It was 175. Then it got even better.  
  
The wireless buzzed, and Starbuck's voice on all channels announced cheerfully:  _"Hey, everybody, all of you out there in the Fleet? Monkeys and toasters? Sam and I got a little side-tracked, but now we have coordinates. How would you all like to go to Earth_?"  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Kara raised her brows at the wireless, hearing overlapping excited voices from all over the fleet demanding to know what she was talking about.  
  
Sam laughed softly and shook his head. "You've done it now."  
  
Finally  _Galactica_  cut through the noise and ordered them on board to speak to President Roslin and Kara acknowledged, then glanced at Sam.  
  
He shrugged. "It's okay."  
  
It was not okay with the baseship, who contacted them. " _Rapter 175, you need to return here first_ ," D'Anna ordered.  
  
"Oh hell, here we go," he muttered and opened his own channel. "D'Anna, It's okay. I can go there first. We're all going to Earth. Please, trust me."  
  
There was silence for a moment and then D'Anna answered, " _Of course, Sam. We put our faith in you_."  
  
"You'll see Earth, D'Anna," he reassured her and shut the channel. Then his head snapped up and Kara was startled by the nearness of a Raider gliding right above them. It was staring at them, at Sam, the usually sweeping red sensor 'eye' fixed on Sam.  
  
They… communed or whatever it was they did, before the Raider took off, a squadron of companions following.  
  
"What was that about?" Kara asked.  
  
"Insurance," he answered.  
  
She knew what that had to mean. "You gave it the coordinates to Earth?"  
  
"Didn't have to. The hybrid knows where it is -- when I saw the coordinates, I remembered I'd seen them before in her datastream. But Cerberus will pass on my order to jump there, if the Fleet goes without them."  
  
"How does she know?" Kara asked and then realized that wasn't even the important question, and demanded irritably, "If she knows, then what the hell was all the rest of this  **for**? We could've just asked her."  
  
He laughed, with more than a touch of bitterness. "Hey, I gave up on the 'why' of it when someone who looked like you appeared in my cell and told me I had some sort of frakking destiny."  
  
She shot him a look, surprised at this sudden revelation that he'd had an experience just like hers. "Someone who looked like me?"  
  
He got all embarrassed, fiddling with the thigh strap of his flight suit. "Yeah, I know she wasn't you, and she was some sort of… well, I think she was actually one of the Lords of Kobol." He cleared his throat. "Anyway-"  
  
"One of the Lords of Kobol?" she repeated, thinking back to her "Sam" who'd then turned into Leoben when she'd told him to stop looking like Sam. But she'd never considered that whoever he was he might be one of the Lords.  
  
Sam mistook her surprise, and said, rolling his eyes, "I know, that sounds like the most ridiculously arrogant thing, doesn't it? One of the Lords of Kobol was talking to me," he said mockingly. "It's one thing to get visions and another to get a personal visit, isn't it? And I don't know that's what she was. But she was some sort of messenger, that much I know. And she looked like you."  
  
"That's so weird," she muttered. He'd had the same experience. Maybe at the same time.  
  
"No kidding," he agreed with a snort. "Let's get to  _Galactica_  and move this party before someone does something stupid."  
  
As she maneuvered the Raptor she thought about what he'd said, feeling a little chilled to think that she'd had the personal attention of a Lord of Kobol. Had she actually frakked one of the gods? She'd thought it had been Sam, that maybe he'd been touching her dreams somehow. But now it seemed… more strange, almost frightening. She glanced at Sam, wondering if she should tell him, then back at the controls as the LSO came over the wireless.  
  
The deck was pandemonium. The news had leaked. There was a huge crowd gathered, held back by marines who could barely keep their own eyes off the Raptor. Everyone from Roslin and the Admiral on down was waiting for them.  
  
"Ready?" Kara asked with a grin.  
  
"Go ahead." He gestured for her to go first and punched the hatch open.  
  
The cheering hit her like something physical weight - people shouting and yelling and applauding as soon as the hatch cracked open and getting louder when she came out. It was an amazing, buoying feeling, washing away all the bitterness at people's suspicion, and she was smiling as she jumped down to the deck.  
  
With Sam at her side, she approached the knot of officers and her smile widened as she told the Admiral, "Sorry I'm late. We got a little side-tracked."  
  
"Apparently," he said dryly, and his gaze flicked from her to Sam and back. "You were at Earth? Again?"  
  
"No hallucination, this time. I swear. We have coordinates," she announced. "Actual coordinates to an actual planet. And we both saw it, and we took video." Next to her, Sam nodded his agreement, and it was so great to have back up for the claim this time.  
  
"What's it like?" Roslin asked.  
  
"Oceans, land, clouds," Kara answered. "We didn't have fuel to land, but it looked beautiful."  
  
The murmur that spread out from that was like a wave, people repeating it:  _beautiful. Earth is beautiful_.  
  
Then there was another wave of cheering that followed, completely drowning out everything that Adama or Roslin tried to say, until the admiral gestured for everyone to move off the deck.  
  
There was some protest from the crowd, but soon they were out of there and on their way to the conference room. There was standing room only there, with others joining them: Tigh and Gaeta from the bridge, Tyrol, even Cottle, and Adama glanced around as if he wanted to dismiss everyone but gave in with a shake of his head.  
  
"Starbuck?" he invited.  
  
She shrugged. "It's like I said. We went to Earth. I did a blind jump from the Hub and there's no way we could've made that whole distance in one jump, but we did. We arrived on the outskirts of the system. It's got water, atmosphere, land… "  
  
"Communications?" Gaeta asked. "Did they contact you?"  
  
"No," she answered. "There was no wireless contact. But we didn't stay long - we knew we had to get back with the news."  
  
"Earth," Roslin said, and although she spoke quietly, her voice silenced the gathering. She looked to the admiral and smiled. "So it turns out we've found it after all."  
  
"And we better go soon," Lee added, "or there's going to be a riot."  
  
At Kara's side she felt Sam tense, as Roslin turned to face him, and Kara felt herself grow tense too, imagining how this was going to play out: she was going to declare the Cylons weren't welcome, and he was going to make his counter-play that he'd already given them the coordinates, and it was going to get ugly…  
  
Roslin's gaze met his. "Yes, the rebel Cylons can come." There were a few shocked gasps at that. But she didn't let anyone speak, "I'm not such a fool that I can't ignore what the gods are clearly telling us, but… there's going to be a cost to us all for this choice."  
  
"The cost is greater if you don't," he said softly.  
  
"I'm not so sure of that, but the decision's made," she declared and raised her chin. "I am declaring a general amnesty for the rebel Cylons - the ones on that basestar and on this ship." Sam's look of astonishment turned into a spreading grin as she confirmed with a smile, "Yes, especially Thea. Let's get her and your child out of that cell. And Admiral, make this Fleet ready to jump to Earth at your soonest possible convenience."  
  
"Yes, Madam President," he confirmed formally, but with an approving smile.  
  
"Tory," she addressed Tory, who started to be addressed as if her mind had been elsewhere. "I need to set up a Fleet-wide press conference right away. We need to announce the destruction of the Hub, and this new discovery."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." For a moment she looked as if she wanted to add something, but glanced at Sam and turned away. Kara wondered if she was thinking of objecting to Thea coming out of the brig.  
  
Kara kind of wanted to, also, even though she knew it was only her selfishness speaking.  _Let him go, you moron. You're not some teenager; you can frak whoever you want and Samuel T Anders can take his toaster girlfriend and make toaster babies, because he's one, too_.  
  
He certainly disappeared fast enough, without a backward glance, as the meeting broke up.  
  
Lee came over to her, and he smiled at her, happy to see her, and she smiled back. He said, taking a deep breath, "I can't believe you found Earth, for real, Kara. We're actually going to Earth."  
  
"So little faith in me, huh?" she retorted, grinning.  
  
He laughed a little. "Plenty in you - it's mythical planets I was having a problem with." Then his expression darkened and he said more softly, looking troubled, "Taking the Cylons, too-- Kara, I don't know. That's going to be trouble."  
  
"When isn't there?" she shrugged. "We have to, Lee. We found it together; so we go together. We make peace. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of war."  
  
His smile was quick but bright and he shrugged his suit jacket, lifting up the shoulders and drawing her attention. "Way ahead of you."  
  
"Yeah, what is that monkey suit all about?" she demanded. "You still haven't told me."  
  
He laughed with a little discomfort, "Well, that's a funny story …"  
  


* * *

  
  
Sam hurried toward the brig, amazed how only a few hours and different rumors changed everything.  
  
"Is it true, you saw Earth?" was the common question full of hope and excitement.  
  
"Yes, yes, it's true. The President will make an announcement shortly," he answered, again and again, not stopping to talk, wanting to be there as Thea was freed.  
  
The outer door opened for him, and he saw Sergeant Wilkes there, smiling. "Lieutenant, we just got word from CIC. If you'll follow me."  
  
She took the keys with her and he followed her first to Thea's cell, unlocking the outer door, where she was playing with Iris, lying on her back and holding the baby up in the air as if she was flying. She looked up as the door opened and sat up, recognizing her visitors. "Sam! You're back!"  
  
"Better than that."  
  
Wilkes went to the door and opened it wide. "By order of President Roslin, the Cylon known as Thea has amnesty and is to be set free," she declared formally. And then she added, with a smile and jerk of her head, "Come on out. You're free."  
  
Thea's delight brightened her face to an incandescent glow and she hurried to the open doorway, paused on the threshold and then took a deliberate step across it. Then she was in his arms, Iris clutched between them. "You said you'd do it, and you did, Sam. Thank you," she murmured.  
  
"This isn't all. We found Earth, Thea. Kara and I jumped from the Hub and we were taken to Earth, and I want you to see it with me. After everything you've suffered for me, you deserve to be there first."  
  
She glanced up, eyes shining and lips parted in wonder. "You saw it? What was it like?"  
  
"Beautiful," he answered. "Clouds, and ocean and I know -- I've seen -- " he closed his eyes so he could see it from his visions, "there's a city by the shore, and tall buildings and a fountain, and it smells of flowers…"  
  
"It sounds wonderful," she murmured and laid her head back on his shoulder.  
  


* * *

  
  
Someone had a sense of humor, Kara thought, as she took her seat on the Raptor to go down -- not only were Sharon and Helo piloting, but Sam and Thea were in the seats across from her, and Leoben was next to her. Leoben glanced at her across to Sam and then smiled to himself, as if he knew a secret. It made Kara want to smack him, and she held herself stiffly so her shoulder wouldn't brush his.  
  
She gave a tight nod to the couple across the way. "Where's the rugrat?"  
  
Thea smiled. "Caprica asked to care for her while we're gone."  
  
"She won't even notice you're gone then," Kara said, meaning it as a bit of a joke but Sam took some offense.  
  
"Iris knows the difference," he said stiffly.  
  
Thea put a hand on his leg and smiled at Kara. "Caprica can't feed her for one thing. But Sam's right, she knows Caprica isn't her mother, though we're both Sixes."  
  
That was interesting. Sort of weird, but she was getting used to weirdness. "Hey, Agathons!" Kara called. "Have you tried Hera with another Eight? Can she tell the difference?"  
  
Helo leaned out of his chair to turn around and frown at her. "No, why would we?"  
  
"Aren't you curious? Iris can tell and she's a baby. So I wondered if Hera could too." What she was really curious about was whether Hera, as a hybrid, kept the talent, or if it was reserved for pure Cylons.  
  
Sharon's voice floated back. "She can project, so I think she can."  
  
"She can?" Thea exclaimed in delight, and clapped her hands once, grinning. "That's wonderful, Sharon."  
  
"Project?" Kara repeated, and at that moment realized she was the only one on the Raptor who didn't know, since even Helo wasn't asking about it.  
  
"Imaginary surroundings," Sam explained. "The baseship is boring, but Cylons can project different surroundings to change its appearance. Like a daydream but it persists held by the subconscious."  
  
"That sounds confusing," Kara said.  
  
"It's useful when you're stuck in a place you don't want to be," he answered in such a casual voice that Kara forgot what he was talking about, until she noticed Thea take his hand in a comforting gesture. He didn't seem to notice, going on, "But yeah, it's odd. I thought it was a sign of my insanity the first time it happened to me."  
  
"So you can do it?" she asked.  
  
"Actually I think everyone can," he answered, earning curious surprised looks from Leoben and Thea. "But humans can only access it easily while asleep."  
  
They were surprised by a sudden footsteps coming up and into the hatch. Tory came in first, remarkably calm at the sight of all the Cylons inside. "Sorry, some last minute shifting around."  
  
"But we're ready to go," Dee added following her in, and punching the button to shut the hatch. Kara realized Dee wasn't a rated ECO and got up to sit at the station, to offer up her seat. Dee glanced nervously at Leoben, who smiled at her with an attempt at what Kara thought was supposed to be bland reassurance, but looked like he was flirting.  
  
"All right," Sharon called, "Everyone strap in, we're next in line to launch."  
  
The Raptor took off and headed through space to the planet beneath them. Kara asked once, trying to break the tense silence, "Hey, Sam, is Cerberus out there?"  
  
He shook his head. "Somewhere, but he doesn't know I'm leaving  _Galactica_. Probably just as well, I'm sure a squadron of Raiders following us would make people nervous."  
  
Kara agreed with that, but found she kind of missed knowing they had the protection. Then she laughed to herself,  _Raiders as protection. You're as nuts as Sam is, you know that_?  
  
As they hurtled through the atmosphere, and the ship started to shake violently, Kara clutched the arms of the chair, praying:  _Let this place be our new home, let this be a place we can finally rest and have peace. And let us get to the ground in one piece, because that would really be stupid to come all this way and turn into a fireball this close to the end_ …  
  
The rattle and heat eased as they were through, and Kara heard some breaths of relief. Then murmurs from the cockpit, Helo and Athena talking in low voices and Athena's voice louder on the wireless, "We'll follow you in, Raptor One, on your lead."  
  
"Here we go," Helo said, and his voice seemed too tight. Kara cast a worried glance at him, recognizing that tone as Helo knowing something was wrong. It made her turn her chair to look at the sensor readouts.  
  
Saline oceans, proper mix of atmosphere which meant that green stuff was definitely oxygenating plant-life, and … no wireless transmissions. No television broadcasts, no radio, no attempt to contact . Or each other, even if the Thirteenth Tribe didn't know they had visitors.  
  
Her stomach went tight in a sudden dread, and she glanced at Sam. Thirteenth Tribe. Suddenly she remembered what he'd said at the confrontation when she'd first heard his voice after emerging from the gas cloud and seeing the battle laid before her: " _last of the Thirteenth Tribe_." The phrase seemed suddenly ominous. Because Earth should be the home of the Thirteenth, and if he was the last -- where were they?  
  
But he didn't look anxious, as if that had occurred to him. He looked hopeful, even eager. His eyes were shining and he had a smile playing at his mouth, as he clutched Thea's hand. "We're going home," he murmured to her and Kara felt sick.  
  
 _Oh no, please tell me this isn't true; he has to be right, that this is here and we'll be able to see them_ … She worked at the sensors, and it didn't take long to realize as they passed over the dark side that there were no lights of civilization.  _No, maybe it's just sparsely populated. Gaeta said they'd found the site of a city, exactly the location as written in the Book of Pythia_.  
  
But as the ship descended, the sick feeling in her gut persisted, twisting into nausea. She watched the sensors, turned away from the rest of the cabin, praying this was wrong.  
  
The engines roared as they slowed for landing, and like a voice pronouncing doom, she heard Sharon's quiet voice of horror and dismay, "Oh, my God."  
  
With a thud and a shudder, they were down. The hatch started opening immediately, and a swirl of cold air entered, immediately sucking out the heat. "Agathons!" Kara complained.  
  
"You might as well see it for yourselves," Helo said in a quiet, subdued voice.  
  
Kara was first in the open hatchway and almost immediately forgot that she should put her jacket on, as she stared.  
  
There had once been a city here, but it was gone. Destroyed.  
  
There were ruined buildings in the distance, a whole lot of sand, a broken bridge, and beyond that grey water reflecting the grey sky. As the engine noise dwindled away, the silence crept in, oppressive.  
  
Tory crowded up behind her. "Oh my gods," she whispered.  
  
"What, let me see," Dee said, and moving automatically, Kara walked down to put her boots on the ground. There was life here in the trees in the opposite direction, but no people. The wind whistled through the grass, cold and lonely, as if people hadn't been here in a long, long time.  
  
"Look, I need to show you the Temple," Sam said in an eager voice, so at odds with their bleak surroundings it broke through Kara's dismay, and she watched as he offered his hand to Thea to help her down and they started toward the ruins.  
  
"Sam…" Thea objected half-heartedly, but followed.  
  
Kara went after them, the others behind her.  
  
He seemed to know exactly where he was going, leading them through tumbled masonry and low weedy hills covered with thin layers of sand and dirt. Soon his destination became fairly obvious, as there was a high partial stone or concrete wall still standing that from the arched windows had been a temple or other important building.  
  
He led them up what had once been the central aisle to the end where the sanctuary should have been, but there was a pile of rubble now, including a large chunk of the roof dome.  
  
"I've come home," Sam whispered, turning around and looking upward, as if there was something up there besides overcast sky. "It's so beautiful."  
  
Kara ignored the shiver up her spine and demanded tartly, with a wave of her hand, "What the frak are you talking about? It's a frakking wasteland."  
  
But his return frown was puzzled. "What?" he asked, genuinely not understanding.  
  
She gestured. "It was wrecked a long time ago, Sam. When it got nuked."  
  
"But we're inside - the temple -- is -- " He frowned upward, as if his eyes were tracing the curves of the dome, and shook his head. He put his hand up as if only now feeling the cold wind. "Don't you see the -- there's…. " His voice trailed off, as he blinked rapidly. He turned in a circle again, mouth open and eyes wide in horror as if he had truly not seen the planet in all its wasteland glory before. His hand went out as if to catch something. "No!"  
  
His gaze lifted up to the broken bridge that loomed over the temple ruins and he stared at it, trying to imprint the image on his eyes. "Is it all like this?" he asked in a small, tight voice.  
  
"Worse than Caprica," Kara answered. She wanted to move toward him, but her feet seemed glued to the sand. Her voice came out flat, harsher than she meant. "It's all dead."  
  
He flinched. "I saw," he whispered. Looking more anguished, he turned desperate eyes on the ruins, turning again slowly, taking in the piles of rubble and broken walls. "But I was seeing it as it was. Oh God… it's all gone."  
  
His steps grew unsteady, and his knees buckled, pulling him down. His hands clutched at the dirt, shoulders bent, and she could barely hear his voice. "This is all I get?" he whispered. "After everything, this is all there is?"  
  
Kara still couldn't move. She stared, as fear made her heart seem to choke her. She felt something brush her arm as Thea rushed past to kneel at his side.  
  
She put an arm across his shoulders and pulled him close. "Sam… Sam… you're okay," she murmured. "It's all right. We're here."  
  
Watching the Cylon do what Kara couldn't, made her want to walk away, but she stayed, watching.  
  
"I saw," he repeated, desperately. "I didn't know it was the past. I didn't know…"  
  
"Sam," Kara found her feet moving toward him again, even though she had no idea what to say. "Nobody knew. I didn't either. This isn't your fault."  
  
He didn't seem to hear her. "I thought I knew -- I thought I understood. But now I remember... Now I know. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said the words as if they were torn from his soul, pleading for a forgiveness he thought would never come.  
  
"Shush," Thea murmured and wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head against her chest and stroking his hair. She did it with the ease of someone who had done it before, and suddenly Kara hated her with an intensity she found dizzying. She had stolen all these moments that should've belonged to Kara. Thea said to him, "We'll get through this." Her gaze flicked up to Kara, and she said, "All of us."  
  
He shook his head in fierce denial, but didn't say anything else as Thea held him and tried to comfort him.  
  
Kara felt someone by her side and turned, half-expecting Lee. But it was Leoben, who was also looking down at Sam and murmured, "He projected himself inside a lie, hiding from memories of yet another world burned to ash."  
  
Because he had known - in some part of him he had known it was gone, Kara thought. He had tried to hold it off, projecting the world as he had seen it in his visions, believing he was seeing the present, but it had been the past. The long-dead past if the weathering of the ruins was any indication.  
  
She walked away, heading for the water line and looked out at the city ruins on the opposite side of the inlet. Leoben followed.  
  
"You're not surprised," she observed without turning.  
  
"I'm disappointed, of course," he allowed. "But no, I'm not surprised. I suspected as much. We will not find paradise so easily."  
  
"Easily?" she demanded and turned to him, incensed. "What the frak are you talking about? The Colonies were destroyed, the Cylons got mortal -- if that's easy, then what the hell is 'hard'?"  
  
"We do not yet know all the truth, and we have not yet faced our enemies," he answered. "We haven't tested our alliance."  
  
"I guess not," she agreed heavily, with a sigh. "So is this going to be New Caprica all over again - we all live in tents and try to get along, and it all falls apart and then the others come and it goes to hell again?"  
  
"This isn't home," he said, and if that was an answer she thought it was a pretty poor one. But probably true.  
  
She shook her head a little and fixed her eyes back on the tumbled buildings across the way. "Not home. And yet…" she said softly. He waited patiently until she continued, "It feels like home. It feels like I've been here before." It wasn't a sound, not exactly, but she felt it again, faintly, what she'd felt to find this place. She turned and started back the way she'd come, walking swiftly.  
  
Leoben followed, but she paid him no attention, caught up in her need to follow this … whatever it was. This way. It was this way.  
  
She left the landing zone behind, heading east into the deeper wilderness past any visible ruins. The grass grew higher here, sheltered from the wind by a stand of trees.  
  
She thought later that she should've known. Somehow she should've known what she would find, but that was only because she knew the gods were cruel and had a vicious sense of humor.  
   
She found a port engine first, and some fragments that looks like part of a Viper's wing, scorched by fire. Then tangled in some high weeds, she found a piece of the tail with a number on it.  
  
Holding the metal in her hands, she stared at it while her insides turned to ice. It was her Viper's number. "No," she murmured, shaking her head in denial, "no, this can't be true. This is mine. This is my Viper number."  
  
"You have been here before," Leoben murmured.  
  
She shook her head in denial, "No, no, this is impossible!"  
  
In the failing light she saw a bright flash, like a reflection of the sun off metal or glass, and burst into a run toward it, frantically hoping it was something else. It had to be something else. It wasn't.  
  
But it was a Viper cockpit, almost complete, except the canopy was gone to expose the pilot inside. Still seated within was a corpse of a pilot with a helmet and a charred Colonial flightsuit, and straw colored hair.  
  
"No," she murmured. "It can't be." Her stomach clenched, threatening to spill its contents, and she whirled to Leoben desperately, demanding, "What does it mean? What is that?  **Who am I**?"  
  
He stared at her, then the corpse, and his eyes went wide, and he shook his head in disbelief. "I -- I don't know," he murmured,, taking a step back away from her. "I -- I am not the one to ask. I'm sorry."  
  
Astonished, she watched as he hurried away.  
  
"Run away, frakking toaster! Just run away like a coward!" she yelled after him but he didn't even flinch, and soon was out of sight.  
  
She turned back to the Viper and it was a punch in the gut to find dogtags at the throat of the flightsuit. Yet it wasn't a surprise at all, when she rubbed the soot off one of the tags, to find her own name.  
  
 _I was here. This was me. So what am I_?  
  
  



	16. Chapter 16

  
All around him the Humans and Cylons bustled around, taking samples and trying to find the answer to what had happened. Trying to see if they could live on this planet.  
  
Sam knew all the answers, but he knelt in the sand where the dome of the temple had once been and he didn't speak. When he had seen the truth of the devastation, the rest of it had come pouring in on him: the missing pieces of Earth, resurrection and the war, and the ship and the voyage to the Colonies.  
  
Betrayal and death.  
   
But none of that froze his soul as much as this blasted ruin did. It was Kobol, it was Caprica, it was his whole life again. He could still see it in his memories, and he could project it all around himself as if it were real, not two thousand years dead. And he had done it. In rage, in grief, trying to end the war, he'd ignored the warnings and he'd done this.  
   
Night fell, and everyone else started to gather to go back to the ships for warmth.  
  
Thea knelt next to him, her hand warm on his back. "Sam? What is it?"  
  
He could only shake his head in answer. The truth rose up inside him like a tide of guilt and grief, choking his voice.  _Why did you do this to me? Please take it away again; I can't bear this_.  
  
"Come up to the ship. Iris is waiting for us," she tried to coax him, hand under his elbow to try to raise him to his feet, but he resisted, pulling away from her.  
  
"No," he said, harshly, not looking at her. "I have to stay."  
  
Thea kissed his cheek and left to return to  _Galactica_  and their daughter. Cold wind blew across the sand, drying the tears that slipped from his eyes, but he didn't move. The sun set and as night fell, the stars came out, in patterns he now remembered.  
  
When the last ship's engine noise faded, and the only sound remaining was the wind, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the temple surrounded him -- graceful, ancient and beautiful, with murals on the walls and the inside of the dome painted with stars and the coming of the dawn.  
   
He was now kneeling before the altar of offering, and its pair of tall yellow candles, beneath the stained glass windows depicting the sunrise over the sea.  
   
"I see it now. I understand." Sam whispered. "How much more do I have to pay? Thea? Iris, too? All the Cylons? Do they all have to die to pay for what we did? For what I did?"  
   
He waited for a moment, wondering if there might be answer. But the candle light didn't flicker, and there was no visitor. Then he clenched his jaw and swallowed. "All right, then." He took out his utility knife from its sheath and laid it on the table in offering. "You want my life, you can have it. Take it. I won't fight it. I was willing in the storm, when Kara took it from me, but I didn't understand why. Now I do. Because I do this. Over and over again, it's my fault. Then why do you keep sending me back?  _Why_?"  
  
A voice murmured from the shadows, "No one sends you. But you make the same choices with the same consequences."  
  
Sam snapped his gaze up to see Leoben. But it wasn't a real Leoben. Sam sensed nothing of the connection he had with other Cylons. "You're like her," he realized.  
  
"Leoben" moved closer toward the candles and held out his hand above the candles, idly moving his hand from side to side. The flames followed the movements, as if they were dancing. He glanced up at the glass window depicting the sunrise above water. "We never asked for these things," his voice was soft. "Temples. Worship. But some of us have always sought closer contact with the mortals; I suppose because human lives are so short, and yet they burn so brightly."  
  
"And that led to the war of the gods."  
  
"There was division," Leoben agreed, moving around the candelabrum to stand behind the altar. "Some pitied the humans for their brief lives and saw no reason they should die. But this was an insult to our brother and task of death."  
  
Sam remembered a sharp knife and shuddered. "Hades."  
  
Leoben nodded once. "Death is a necessary part of life. It gives shape and meaning to it."  
  
"Tell that to the people  **butchered**  in his name," Sam spat, visions of Kobol flashing through him with a sudden fury. "There was nothing necessary or meaningful about that."  
  
Leoben hesitated. "Hades was not blameless," he acknowledged after a moment. "He distorted the pattern as well, seeking to interfere beyond his province and become the equal of the creator. Which was why we agreed that he must be held in Elysium. But in retaliation he sealed the way, so none may enter. There is no growth, no change, no peace. Only repetition."  
  
"The door in the Opera House," Sam realized.  
  
Leoben tilted his head with a curious look at him as if he didn't know what Sam was talking about, and then nodded. "Its representation, yes."  
  
"But... why me?" he asked. "Why can't you open it?"  
  
"Because..." the Lord hesitated and Sam had the impression he was choosing his words very carefully, "it is upon you and the others like you that the wheel turns. If you choose to open the door and admit death, then you do it for all."  
  
"I... died in the Temple of Hopes, I remember that."  
  
"You were offered the chance to open it then. But you refused. Death was no gift to you, then."  
  
"Because I'd been tortured to death by one of his cultists?" Sam asked wryly.  
  
The lord of Kobol smiled a little. "The timing was... unfortunate." And he stopped there.  
  
But Sam knew there was more. "That's not all. It wasn't just that, was it?"  
  
It seemed difficult for him to admit, but at last he answered, "No. You refused because it has been decreed that artificial life is an abomination and will not pass the threshold to the other side."  
  
Sam thought about it and his lips parted, at first unable to speak, as he realized what that meant. "Cylons aren't allowed in Elysium?"  
  
"No. The Thirteenth Tribe is barred, because they evade death through artificial means."  
  
Sam stared at him. "But -- but I'm a member of the Thirteenth Tribe. I was one of those who invented resurrection on Kobol. You mean to tell me this is all for humans only? No Cylons can enter the afterlife? I'm supposed to open a door I can't even enter?"  
  
Leoben froze and his eyes flickered with regret as if he'd given away too much. "No," he answered. "If you restore the proper flow of time and history, you will have your reward and be able to pass through to the other side."  
  
"I get to go through, but none of my people do? Do you really think I'm that selfish?" he demanded, upset and horrified.  
  
"Then you can remain outside if you wish."  
  
Sam climbed to his feet, in agitation and unwillingness to confront the lord from the ground. "That's not the point! Cylons have souls, too. I have a soul. And you can't tell me Thea doesn't have a soul, I don't believe it. She is a  **person**. She's grown into her own individual self -- she's not the same as any other Six."  
  
"The mother of your child is an artificial being, grown in a tank of water with a mind and personality based on a set of basic instructions you bestowed upon her. She may have grown beyond that, but she is not human, no matter how much you wish her to be."  
  
"She doesn't have to be human to be a person! Or to have a soul," he objected and then let out a frustrated, angry breath. "This is just like Kobol all over again. Or the Colonies. No wonder it keeps happening when nobody understands what is so frakking obvious to me: created life is  **life** ," he bit out intensely. "And I will do nothing that keeps my people, my children, stuck on the outside of Elysium for all eternity. I won't do it."  
  
Leoben was not surprised by his declaration, as if he'd heard it before. "Even if it condemns all of them -- human and cylon -- to extinction?" Leoben asked softly. "It's different this time. The Twelve Tribes have dwindled to some less than fifty thousand. Even should they find a habitable planet, there may not be enough to save them. The cycles may end, not in Elysium, but with nothing. Are you so selfish that you will not allow even the humans their chance to share in the peace of Elysium at last, after all they've suffered at the hands of your creations?" he asked, soft but merciless.  
  
"No..." Sam stumbled back from the altar and his eyes felt hot with tears, remembering the burned and shattered bodies on Caprica. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. "I... " he shook his head. "Pick someone else. I... how can I make that kind of choice?"  
  
"It has to be you," Leoben answered then reconsidered, "Well, it could be any of you Five." He sighed. "This was why I warned her not to let you remember too early -- you know too much, and it's too heavy a burden for any mortal to carry. But Aurora will have her way."  
  
"Where is she? Can I talk to her?"  
  
Leoben cast another glance up at the window. "She's not here. I tell her the outcome cannot change, that to preserve what remains we must persuade you to do what must be done. But still she and the others intervene, trying to change the inevitable which is that you must open the door. Save the few who can be saved."  
  
The last time he'd seen Aurora, she'd told him there was never only one path to his destiny. She'd warned him to wait. And if she was working on shifting the back court then he could take point, and give her time and leverage to find another play.  
  
Sam swallowed convulsively but inhaled a deep breath, settling himself to deliberate calm. This was the last few seconds of a game, and he had to find a new play, because losing here was unacceptable. He grabbed his knife off the altar again. Holding it in his hand, he declared softly, "No. Make Hades relent. Make God change his mind, I don't care. But if the choice is mine, then I choose everyone. If you want that door open, then it opens for all. Including Cylons."  
  
Leoben held his eyes for a long moment, searching for weakness and doubt. Sam held himself tall and certain. After a moment, Leoben shook his head sadly. "I have heard those words before, but I hope when the time of your choice comes, you choose more wisely."  
  
The candles gutted out with a cold breeze rushing through the temple, and when he blinked, the temple was a dark ruin again and the otherworldly visitor was gone.  
  
Sam's shoulders slumped and he let out a breath. His heart was pounding too quickly, and he hurried out of the temple boundary to the shore.  
  
His hands tightened to fists as he stared into the dark night, able to see the white foam of the waves, but little of the ruins on the far shore.  
  
His city. His people, once. All dead. All of them barred from Elysium by the whims of an evil, angry god. They had been good people, and they deserved better than nothingness. They deserved better than to be shoved into the void, unblessed and denied.  
  
But just as he was working himself into righteous fury and stubbornness, his mind treacherously flashed images of a different ruined planet, and others he considered 'his people': Helo. Jean. Hillard. Duck and Norah and little Sammy. All of them Human. All of them his friends. And all of them likely to die, now that Earth had proven to be a lie.  
  
Human and Cylon. All trapped by the same circle of time, he more than anyone.  
  
There had to be some way out of this. There had to be a way to break the circle for everyone.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The smell of smoke dragged his attention from staring into the sea. Smoke? He had thought he was alone on the planet, but apparently he wasn't.  
  
He wandered south following the smell, soon able to see the bonfire on a dune. Hiking up the sand, he found Kara there, her face orange with the firelight, staring into the fire.  
  
"Kara? I thought you'd gone up to the ship?"  
  
She started violently, as if she hadn't heard him approach, though he hadn't tried to be stealthy. "No. I -- I couldn't."  
  
She was looking at him, intently, as if she wanted something or was looking for something in his face. But she didn't say anything and returned her attention to the fire after a bit. He gave a little shrug in his coat and moved a step closer to the fire to warm his hands. "Hell of a frakked up day."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed softly.  
  
He opened his mouth to tell her what he knew.  _I remembered more, I remembered the truth. I understand who I used to be. I was born on this planet, I was a scientist, and I helped it die. I made the Cylons, I know how they work, I helped give them their minds. I did such a good job, John murdered us and then murdered everyone else in the Colonies. I don't know who I am but I know this is all my fault_.  
  
Oh yes, that was going to go over well. And he was going to have to tell everyone. But Galen, Saul, and Tory were all he had left from these days, and they deserved to know first. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. The fire's heat made him step away again and he sat on the ground next to Kara.  
  
He felt her eyes on him as he sat down, but she looked away.  
  
Side by side, they both stared into the fire. Kara had made a big fire, and must have used some sort of fuel, since there was a chemical smell to it, as if plastic was burning.  
  
It was several minutes later, long enough for the ground to start feeling uncomfortable and the flames to die down, that he recognized a shape inside the fire. "What the frak is that?" he asked, puzzled, and got to his feet. "Is that a helmet?"  
  
"Sam, no!" Kara exclaimed, and latched onto him when he would've kicked it out of the fire to look at it. "No! It has to burn!"  
  
He looked down, disturbed by the wild desperation in her eyes. She hadn't let go of his arm yet, her fingers clutching him painfully tight.  
  
"Kara. What are you burning?" Because now that he looked at it from this angle, it looked less like a bonfire and more like a funeral pyre. And that was a flight helmet, it had to be.  
  
She didn't answer for a long time, tense under his hand, before she slumped in resignation. "Me," she answered. "I'm burning me."  
  
He frowned in confusion. "What?"  
  
She yanked free of his grip and lifted her chin at him, practically spitting out the words. "I found the wreckage of my old Viper. I found a cockpit, with my body in it. With these tags."  
  
She hurled something at him from her hand and he caught it against his jacket. When he opened his hand, he saw dog tags, with Zak's ring on them, matching the set still hanging around her neck. The tags in his hand were dark with soot, but she had rubbed one clean, to display her name.  
  
"That's me," she nodded her chin at the body in the fire. "This thing you're looking at, it's not me. Okay? You get it now? And now you can run away, just like Leoben did," she added bitterly. "Go back to your toaster family and leave me alone."  
  
He couldn't help it; he chuckled.  
  
Her eyes snapped to his, looking huge and betrayed.  
  
He shook his head at her. "Kara, you think after all the shit I've seen-- I have memories of frakking  **Kobol**  in my head, and you seriously believe I'm going to freak out about this?"  
  
That seemed to catch her by surprise, as if she really had expected him to run away from her.  
  
"You're still you," he reassured her. "You're still not a Cylon, I can tell you that much, if that's what you're worried about."  
  
"Then... what am I, Sam? You seem to have all the answers."  
  
 _I remember you_ , he almost said.  _You came to me not far from this very spot, and you tried to warn me. You were my angel and I didn't listen_ … Instead of saying it though, he smiled at her and requested, "Look at the other tag." He held it up for her to see. He'd rubbed the soot off to show his own name there. That tag matched the two hanging around his own neck. "When you flew that day -- you were wearing both of yours, remember? You weren't wearing one of mine."  
  
Her eyes rose from the tags to meet his, looking stunned and confused by this proof that this Kara wasn't quite Kara either. "But... I don't understand," she whispered. "It's my bird. That suit had my name on it, and what was left was me. How is this possible?"  
  
Maybe the Sam Anders of the C-Bucs would've wondered, but he knew too much now to have any doubt what the answer was. "My daughter is a miracle of God. So are you, Kara." He brushed his fingers against her face and lifted her chin to look at him. "You always have been, but maybe now you can see it for yourself."  
  
She shook her head in confused denial, and didn't try to get away when he tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
"We're still us," he murmured. "They can't take that away, Kara. No matter how much they try to push us into doing what they want, we're still us. We need to hold tight to what we believe in. And I believe in you. No matter what."  
  
Her laugh was soft and a little bit broken. "You're so ridiculous, you know that?" But despite her words, she let herself relax into his chest, putting her head on his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist.  
  
He chuckled and kissed her hair. "However it happened, you're here. And I can't be anything but glad about that."  
  
She didn't answer, but she tilted her head to kiss him on the neck, and then nestled against him again.  
  
For that little while, as he held her, everything else went away and left them in an oasis of peace.  
  


* * *

  
  
As the night passed, Kara pulled away to stare into the fire, while he turned his gaze upward to the sky. The stars up there were both strange and familiar, a memory of years past that had faded but remained. He could look around and see only fragments and lonely sand, but in his mind the city was there still, but there was no peace, only war and death.  
  
He hadn't brought the war, but he had brought death in the guise of free will, since it seemed it was fate for all those with free will to kill others.  
  
Pain sat on his chest at the thought, choking his breath. Good intent turned to such evil ends … was it any wonder that John had fallen when his parents were such failures?  
  
 _I have to make this right, somehow I have to fix this. But not only for humans, for Cylons, too. Everything is frakked so badly_.  
  
He must have made some sound because Kara turned her head to frown at him. "Sam?"  
  
"I remember everything," he confessed finally, voice scarcely clearing his throat. "I know who I am; I know the truth about all of it."  
  
"Is it that terrible?" she asked.  
  
"Terrible, wonderful -- the confusion, the doubt, it's gone. It's as if a door opened and finally the light can come in. But what the light shows…" he swallowed hard. "I'm not who you think."  
  
"You're not a hot Cylon pyramid star?" she teased, trying to joke about it. "Because I was there."  
  
He scooped up a handful of sand, holding it like a pyramid ball, and he got to his feet and looked out toward the water. "We called it triad here," he murmured. "I was good at it in secondary school, but what I really loved was programming. Computers." His lips quirked in a faint wry smile. "Gaius Baltar and I have so much more in common than I ever realized before."  
  
From the corner of his eye he could see Kara's face tilted up as she watched him with a puzzled frown. "Sam? I don't understand? Are you saying you lived here?"  
  
He opened his fingers to let the sand trickle out - hundreds, thousands of grains of sand, falling to the ground, leaving only a few behind. "I'm saying … I destroyed it."  
  
"What? You? That's impossible."  
  
He wasn't sure if she meant impossible because it had been long ago, or because she didn't think he was capable of it; either way, she was wrong. "I made so many terrible mistakes. I tried to do the right thing, but … it went wrong."  
  
"It wasn't you," she tried to say in reassurance. "Just memories, visions, they're not yours--"  
  
He almost laughed at that. "No, it's me. I wish it weren't, but it was my life." Then he did laugh once. "I have so much in my head, Kara. It's going to take an hour to tell everyone what I know." He faced the water, closing his eyes against the cold breeze, and inhaled a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "If I had my choice, I'd go back to those months of you and I on  _Galactica_ , before the Cylons came to New Caprica. I was happy with you. We were free."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed softly. "Me, too."  
  
But now he knew he'd never deserved her. She was his angel, who'd come to him when he was young, and now he was so much older and she was here again, but she didn't remember. Perhaps it was for the best anyway. That perfect time had been lost in a haze of anguish and desperation and horror as it all went wrong, and the end had begun.  
  
He'd tumbled from the heights and now here he was, at the bottom, recovered in his memories enough to remember how far he'd fallen.  
  
Reaching out to touch her, his hand fell back to his side. "I need to walk," he announced abruptly and left without looking at her again.  
  
He wandered the ruins for the rest of the night, deliberately not projecting the way the city had been. He forced himself to look at the destruction and remnants, ending up back at the Temple of Aurora, remembering how he'd wanted peace and immortality. He'd achieved immortality, but at a terrible price.  
  
In the morning, he knew what to do, returning to  _Galactica_  on one of the Raptors. It was strange coming back, his mind full of memories of a different ship. The light seemed dim, and for a little while as he left the deck to go to the main corridor the people seemed strange and unfamiliar and it seemed very crowded.  
  
But then he realized that everything wasn't only wrong because of his new memories, but the ship  _was_  different from the last he'd seen it. There was a palpable aura of despair that had fallen over the ship: everyone knew Earth was frakked.  
  
Then they started to recognize him. He could hear the murmurs, the whispers that followed him. They grew angrier, but with a different edge; even the anger seemed pulled out of hopelessness.  
  
"He did this, he brought us here.."  
  
But it didn't get terrible until a woman stepped in his way, cuddling a blonde child to her chest. Julia looked up at him, her eyes brimming with betrayal and anguish. "You said we'd find home," she accused. "You said we'd be safe. You promised."  
  
He wanted to protest that he'd made no such promise; all he'd told her was that Kacey would live to see Earth. But he had said other things, made other promises, that he now knew he'd given without understanding what the truth was.  
  
"I'm sorry, it wasn't what I thought it would be. But there's more to come, Julia. This isn't the end."  
  
"What else is there?" she demanded. "This was our goal, our promised land… and it's all dead."  
  
"And they were all Cylons anyway!" someone said in disgust.  
  
Sam turned toward the man who'd spoken. "They were just like you!" he retorted, suddenly furious. "They were born, just like you, and they bled, just like you, and they all died. They're all dead." His voice choked in his throat, and he repeated in a whisper. "All dead. They were my people and they're gone." He blinked back the heat in his eyes and pushed away from them, trying to get away from the people who didn't understand.  
  
He wanted to find Thea, but didn't know where she and Iris had gone after they'd been freed. His feet carried him to the brig, to find the doors open but she was in there anyway, waiting.  
  
He paused on the threshold, looking at her and suddenly felt dizzy. She was Thea, but in that moment she was also Six. Modeled after the angel Saul had seen, altered from other genes by Saul himself with Tory's help, until she was stunningly beautiful as she emerged, pure and golden, and innocent and sweet. More than any of the previous ones, she'd emerged a child, with a child's curiosity about everything.  
  
His hands clenched, recalling long hours of writing her personality matrix - open to religion, firm in beliefs, yet for the first time he'd thought he had it right -- she would know how to love.  
  
Thea glanced up and smiled at him. "You're back!"  
  
He couldn't stir from where he'd slumped against the edge of the hatch, seeing the love in her eyes. The realization hit like a slap in the face.  
  
 _Oh, God, I created her to love me, didn't I?_  
  
Her eyes softened with concern. "Sam? Are you all right?"  
  
He swallowed and forced himself to push it away. She didn't know, not yet, and it wasn't her fault he suddenly recalled everything. "I…" he started and didn't know how to finish. Heedless of the fact that Iris was sleeping, he scooped her up in his hands to hold her to his chest as he sat down at the end of the cot, feeling weak. "Oh God, I don't know. Everything's all frakked."  
  
Her hand caressed his back, and he had to hold himself still to keep from flinching.  _This is Thea, not that Six I remember, not the child we made._  
  
Even in his own mind, the reminder sounded desperate.  
  
Iris opened her eyes, scrunching her face as if she was going to cry, but then stopped, hiccupped, and gurgled something.  
  
"It's all happened so fast," he murmured. "I don't know if anyone's ready to hear the rest of it."  
  
"What else?"  
  
"Everything," he answered, watching Iris and unable not to smile as she smiled at him and tried to grab his chin. "But I have to tell them."  
  
"You do what you have to do," she reassured him. "Better the truth."  
  
He shook his head but didn't disagree out loud. There were some memories he didn't want back. Truth could be a weapon, and here, with the people of the Fleet already fractured and damaged, he worried it would be too much to carry. He'd lived it, and it was too much for him.  
  
Her hand combed gently through his hair and smoothed the back of his neck. "Don't worry so much, Sam. You can't protect us all."  
  
"No," he agreed heavily. "I can't. I shouldn't even try, should I? All I do is make everything worse."  
  
Her caress paused before it resumed more slowly. "I don't think that's true. You brought the humans and Cylons into alliance, and we're not trying to kill each other."  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Not ever," she reassured him. "You won't let them. Because," she laid a hand on his cheek and made him turn his head toward her, "no matter what you remember, no matter what happened in the past, it's the present that matters now. What kind of future our little girl will have. That's what matters."  
  
He nodded, letting out a sigh then bending to kiss Iris. "Are you going back to the baseship?"  
  
"What? Why would I do that?" Thea asked blankly, as if the idea hadn't even occurred to her.  
  
"You've been in this cell for months, wouldn't you rather go home?" he asked, equally confused.  
  
She chuckled lightly. "It's not a cell if the door is open. And besides," she laid her head on his shoulder, looking down at Iris, "This is home."  
  
He wanted to protest and to tell her to go back to the baseship. He had to hold himself still to keep from putting some space between them  
  
"…  _Father, is this how we water the flowers?_ "  
" _Yes, little one. Each one gets a drink. Plants get thirsty, too_ …"  
  
She'd been so young in all her reactions. It had taken weeks for him to even notice her body was adult, and that had happened only because she'd asked him why she had breasts and Simon didn't.  
  
He smiled at the memory, remembering how that conversation had led to one about humanity and the human form. But the smile faded, remembering his mouth on those same breasts and now it felt so wrong.  
  
She didn't seem to notice his distraction. "Which isn't to say I don't want to see my sisters again and find out what happened while I was away," she added. "And you mentioned you wanted Cerberus to meet Iris."  
  
"Yes." It occurred to him that his connection with Cerberus shouldn't be possible from what he knew of their design. How much had the Raiders changed while he'd been … away? How much of what they'd thought impossible was happening anyway?  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head, now disturbed. So many things had changed: new designs he didn't remember, multiple copies that hadn't existed, even that baseship lurking somewhere outside wasn't the same as the one he remembered.  
  
Time had marched on, and the Cylons had continued to evolve after their makers had been forced into their ordinary human exile. But it was time to reveal all that, because only knowledge of the past was going to let everyone move forward.  
  
Decision made, he inhaled a deep breath and straightened. "Bring Natalie, Caprica, Boomer, D'Anna, and Simon here. I'm going to have to tell Roslin and Adama what I know, and the Cylons, too. This affects us all."  
  
"Caprica's here already," Thea reminded him. "I think she's with Gaius."  
  
That surprised and pleased him. "Good. I've got something to do first, but say, two hours from now we'll all meet. Everyone hears together."  
  
He couldn't stand to see Thea's concern and hurried out.  
  
He hoped two hours was enough time, since he hadn't reckoned on both Saul and Galen being on duty, but once he got to Galen, Galen agreed to pass the word to Saul, and then Sam found Tory, who was hovering outside the quarters where the presence of guards told him Roslin was within.  
  
"Did you know?" Tory demanded furiously, as soon as she saw him. "Did you know Earth was frakked? What sick purpose did it serve to make us go there?"  
  
"No, I didn't know," he answered. "But one of the purposes was to restore my memories. I know," he lowered his voice, mindful of the guards, "I know who we are, Tory. Can you get away for a little while? We four need to talk."  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise and her lips shaped words she couldn't speak. She glanced at the hatch but then nodded. "She won't even know I'm not here," Tory murmured. "This hit her hard, Sam. I hope you have something worth all this pain."  
  
"It's not," he told her, with a sigh, "but it's worth something. We're meeting in Saul's quarters."  
  
They were there first, and Tory took the only chair, while Sam leaned against the desk, reluctant to sit on the rack. But the hatch opened again, not long afterward, letting in Saul and Galen, who spun the wheel to lock it.  
  
Saul looked at him then went straight to a cabinet, bringing out a flask of something, pouring it into four small metal cups. "Here, I have a feeling we're all gonna need this."  
  
Sam took the cup with murmured thanks, then said, "When I was on Earth, something happened. It was like a wall in my head collapsed - and I remembered everything. I'm going to have to tell the others, too, but I figured you three deserved to know first."  
  
Before he could begin, Saul looked at him, his face hard to read. "Ellen," he declared without doubt. "I know the fifth was Ellen. I saw her. I remembered her, we were there…"  
  
Sam nodded and sipped at the rotgut, shivering as it went down. They'd once drunk such better liquor together. "Yes. I think she resurrected, Saul."  
  
Saul stared for a moment and then turned roughly away, to fist his hands on the table.  
  
"You said we didn't," Galen said in confusion.  
  
"I didn't know. I'm not sure if we will  _now_ , but at New Caprica she should have, in secret. I'm glad you remembered her on your own - I thought you might not believe me if I told you," Sam explained.  
  
Saul jerked a nod, not looking at him.  
  
"We all lived on Earth," Galen declared. "Or at least I remember it. I was there -- we were there -- and we died."  
  
"It was us," Sam confirmed.  
  
So then he told them of Earth, the  _Colony_ , and how they'd met the Colonial Centurions and made the agreement to end their war. Then he drained his cup and told them the rest: of John and the other children, and betrayal, and how they'd been punished into forgetting.  
  
When he'd finished, they all were quiet, trying to understand and come to grips with this huge revelation of the truth.  
  
"Oh gods," Tory was the first to speak, shaking her head and looking sick to her stomach. "How can we tell them this?"  
  
"We have to," Sam said. "Or at least I have to. I can keep you three out of it, if you want."  
  
"No," Galen said, shaking his head. "It's time, I think. We have to tell the truth."  
  
"But … Roslin," Tory murmured, "she's already so crushed by Earth. If we tell her about us… about me…"  
  
"Old Man won't like it either," Saul agreed heavily. "But at least we can explain."  
  
Tory let out sharp disbelieving breath. "You think that's going to matter? All she's going to hear is I'm a Cylon."  
  
"It turned out okay for Sam," Galen pointed out and folded his arms. "And if we sit on this, it'll look worse when we do have to tell. Because you know we will."  
  
"But tell them what?" she demanded. "That we used to be scientists? That we made the Cylons? That it's all our fault, that we created monsters who murdered billions of people? They're going to hate us, Galen."  
  
"Maybe they will," Sam agreed, staring down into the cup. "But the point is it should help them understand the Cylons. The humans will never find a way to forgive, if they believe the Cylons are all monsters, instead of children who were used and abused by their elders and forced into being what they weren't supposed to be. And if they hate us, then… that's the sacrifice we make. Because it's our responsibility."  
  
"We don't even remember!" Tory protested. "Only you do."  
  
"You don't have to admit to it," he said wearily. "You each decide on your own. If you want me to take it myself, I will. But I'm still going to tell the Humans and the Cylons the truth. And whether or not you want to reveal yourselves, I need you two to get the Admiral and President Roslin there in an hour, to the conference room."  
  
"I'll be there with you," Galen offered and Sam thanked him with a nod.  
  
"All right," Saul gave in with a grunt. "At least we can stop sneaking around."  
  
"Fine, of course, I will, too," Tory said after a moment, still looking reluctant, but nodding. "We face it together."  
  


* * *

  
  
tbc...


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

  
When Kara entered the conference room, it was already getting crowded. Apparently word had gotten out that Sam had something to tell the Admiral and Roslin, and everyone wanted to know what it was. So not only were there a lot of people in the room, but they were  _hopeful_ , which made her nervous because Sam had been gloomy on the surface, consumed by what he knew, until he'd stood up and walked away from the fire without a word. It wasn't good news.  
  
There were a lot of Cylons there, too, Kara saw to her surprise. They were gathered in a group to one side, and at first she thought it was because they were worried about the humans, but then realized they were all gathered around Iris, watching the baby as if she was doing something remarkable like calculus or reciting poetry instead of sleeping.  
  
Helo was also in the room, with Gaeta and Tigh, Lee and Dualla -- which made Kara wonder if they'd left Hoshi alone in CIC.  
  
Sam was already in the room, but he wasn't with the Cylons, standing in the corner alone, looking vaguely ill and worn. His eyes met hers briefly and he tried to smile a greeting, but then his gaze flicked away to the hatch as Roslin came in with Tory's help.  
  
The president looked terrible - frail and defeated as Kara had never seen her before. Even when the Admiral jumped up to help her to a chair, she barely smiled at him. Kara prayed Sam wouldn't hurt her more badly with whatever his news was.  
  
Sam stirred himself from the corner to greet her and Kara moved nearer to listen. "Thank you for coming, President Roslin."  
  
Roslin looked up at him. "I wasn't sure I should, since the last time I listened to you we found a dead planet. But Tory insisted you have important new information."  
  
His eyes flicked around the room, and he gave a nod to someone entering. Kara turned to see he'd acknowledged Playa Palacios, who took the chair Tigh vacated for her. Apparently, Sam was intending to tell, not just the Fleet leaders, but  _everyone_.  
  
"I do," he answered. "I learned something you all need to hear."  
  
"From a vision?" Roslin asked skeptically.  
  
"No. From my memories. But I didn't remember it until I was there again." He waited until Palacios took out her recording equipment and gave him a nod that she was ready. He moved to the center of the room and inhaled a deep breath, and the room fell quiet.  
  
"I'm going to tell you all a story. This story is true - I know it, because I was there. I lived it. The truth was hidden from me, my memories altered, but on Earth I remembered what had been hidden from me. You all know that I'm a Cylon, one of the Final Five, last of the Thirteenth Tribe, because I already told you that. What you don't know - and what I didn't know until yesterday- is what that means.  
  
"So I'm going to start with the Thirteenth Tribe's journey from Kobol to Earth, and move toward our present. And I'm going to tell you truths that no one in this room or in this fleet, Human or Cylon, has known for more than fifty years."  
  
Kara couldn't look away as he told the story of how religious opposition to resurrection led to the sabotage of their resurrection chambers, forcing them to all return to procreation as they settled Earth. Then the story got darker as war came to Earth and Centurions were created, because the people valued their lives too much, having only one. Five scientists came together to recreate resurrection, warned by greater beings that worse war and death were coming.  
  
"But just as they did in the Colonies, the Centurions gained self-awareness," Sam said quietly. "And as in the Colonies, they rebelled. What had been war, became annihilation. We five were killed in a nuclear blast that destroyed the capital; we resurrected on the  _Colony_. By the time we awoke, it was over. The planet was dead. Everyone was dead. We were… alone."  
  
The room was utterly silent as Sam's voice choked on the last word, and he looked down, throat working. Kara felt frozen, stricken by the realization of what being one of the "Final Five" actually meant. It meant being one of five people left alive - not fifty thousand of the Fleet, but  _five_. She shook her head, unable to imagine the loneliness.  
  
From the group of Cylons, she heard Thea exclaim sadly, "Oh, Sam."  
  
He glanced her way, unshed tears making his eyes bright, then he swallowed hard and took a deep breath, returning his voice to calm. "Then the messengers came to us again, telling us to find our lost cousins of the Twelve Tribes because it would happen again. So we began our long journey, traveling subluminal because the ship had no jump drive, heading back to Kobol. We arrived at the Colonies," he glanced at the admiral, and said with deliberation, "In the tenth year of the first Cylon War."  
  
There were gasps at that, even one torn from Kara's throat as she realized: Sam looked in his thirties, but he was much older than that. He had been in the Colonies when her mother had been young.  
  
But Adama nodded thoughtfully and said, "It was you. That's why they stopped."  
  
Sam nodded back. "Yes. We made an arrangement with the Centurions - they would stop the war and withdraw, and in exchange, we would create them the more human-form bodies they wanted, and gift them with resurrection." Then in case they didn't understand yet, he looked at the Cylons and said, "The Five of us made you - in our image like us, from genetics we saved from our world. This world."  
  
"You're the makers," D'Anna breathed. "The creators."  
  
"Our parents," Caprica said, looking just as stunned.  
  
Thea was staring at him, and Kara thought she looked strangely sad.  
  
Sam went on, "We wanted to recreate our families, the Thirteen Tribe, to have our people around us again. And then, we planned to return to the Colonies, in peace, so we could all live together." He paused, and his eyes flickered with dark memories. "It didn't happen that way. Our first creation was John, the model you know as Cavil. At first he helped us with the others. We thought he had developed enough, but inside, he was still a child. He grew jealous of his siblings especially model seven, Daniel, who was gentle and kind and brilliant with art and music. John hated the idea that we wanted peace with the humans, who he saw as inferior, and most of all, he grew to hate us. So he made his plans and on one terrible day, he murdered his brother, and then he lured the five of us into an airlock and killed us. While he held us in resurrection stasis, he also killed the rest of his siblings so he could erase from them any knowledge of the Five or their missing brother.  
  
"And then," he took a deep breath, "John sent us into the Colonies, our memories blocked, to live as humans, while he planned the destruction of the Colonies and annihilation of humanity. Something he intended the five of us to have front-row seats for, to punish us." He hesitated, and his hands fisted at his sides, brow knitting in pain. "I believe he caused the Carvarthon avalanche specifically to plant me there. I know that must seem ridiculous to be upset about that, when the attacks killed so many, but that was two thousand people he killed just so I'd spend three days buried under rock and snow. I …" his voice faltered, before he forced himself to continue, "I can only say, I still don't understand how he went so wrong, got so twisted and hateful. And 'I'm sorry' isn't enough, I know it will never be enough, but ultimately his existence and therefore all his actions are my responsibility."  
  
" _Our_  responsibility," Tyrol declared and stepped forward to join Sam. He raised his head to look at the others. "I don't remember any of this, not like he does, but I do know I'm also one of the Five."  
  
There were shocked murmurs at that revelation, but Kara didn't feel especially surprised. It seemed like something she already knew, a feeling that grew as he wasn't the only one to stand up and declare himself.  
  
"And me," Tory said, and after a glance at Roslin, stood up to stand beside Galen.  
  
In a soft voice, Tigh said, "I'm sorry, Bill." Then he walked over to join them, glaring fiercely at the gathering. "I've been a Colonial officer for twenty years, that's true. That's who I am. I'm not a scientist, I don't remember any of this, but I do know I'm one of these Final Five, too. And Ellen, my wife, was the fifth."  
  
The buzz after that was immense, that the XO was a Cylon, and the Admiral looked as though someone had kicked him in the gut.  
  
When the wave of it had settled somewhat, Sam said, "I think that's all. Hell, it's probably too much to take in all at once, but I wanted you to know. I know relations are difficult right now, but at least you know the truth. I'm sure you have questions. They," he glanced at the other three, "can't help you, but I'll answer whatever I can."  
  
Some stayed to ask questions, but Kara hurried from the room, needing the air.  
  
Sam wasn't who she'd thought. It wasn't that he was a Cylon, that part didn't even matter anymore, but now he remembered this whole other life. He was different. She hadn't seen it as much at the fire, too consumed with herself, but standing there, he wasn't the same Sam Anders. He'd been  _certain_ , and that felt strange after Sam being unsure of so much. But not just the strangeness, but what he'd said: he had been in the Colonies. He'd ended the first Cylon war, for frak's sake. Hell, without him doing that, she might not even exist because her mother had been on the front lines.  
  
Someone brushed against her hard, and Kara snapped, "Hey!" Before realizing it was someone familiar. "Oh. Sharon." Then came the belated realization that the Eight wasn't in uniform and had to be one of the others. "Sorry, I thought you were Athena. I know you're not all Sharon."  
  
"It's okay, Kara. I am Sharon," she said. "Sorry I bumped you."  
  
Boomer wasn't looking at her, and her voice was low and distant, and she looked unhappy.  
  
"What's wrong?" Kara asked, then wondered why she was even asking.  
  
"I -- Galen's one of the Five," she murmured, shoulders slumping and looking disheartened.  
  
Kara frowned, curious that Sharon still had a thing for Chief, and even more curious why his being a Cylon was terrible. "I would've thought that'd be good news. At least you don't have to worry about him hating you, right? He's like you now."  
  
Sharon shook her head. "No, you don't understand. He's one of the makers, the creators, Kara. He's not like me. Not at all. You heard Sam, too -- we're their children. It's … weird. Isn't it weird?"  
  
"I guess it would be," Kara agreed. "It's weird to think about. They have this other life."  
  
"I had no idea," Sharon murmured. "I feel like I should've known, like I should've felt it when Galen and I were together. But hell, I didn't even know what I was. And when Sam told us he was one of the Five, that seemed so miraculous, and now it's…"  
  
"Ordinary?" Kara asked, wryly, thinking Sharon seemed disappointed.  
  
"I suppose. I mean, it's wonderful to know our history, but I--" Sharon checked whatever she was planning to say and let out another sigh of resignation. "It sounds stupid, but it felt special to think Sam was chosen and we were chosen by God through him. But we can't be chosen by God when we're only reclaiming what we should've been all along, right?" Her hands bunched to fists at her thighs as if she wanted to punch something hard. "I hate Cavil, I knew he'd done horrible things, but I thought that was the worst of it. God, how could anyone be filled with such hate and evil? I don't understand it."  
  
"Made wrong, I guess," Kara muttered in agreement. The Cylons were even more confused by the news than she was. Most humans probably wouldn't care about the history too much since it was all irrelevant now, but this news upended much of what the Cylons knew about themselves. All the secrets that had been kept from them.  
  
"Yeah, no kidding." Boomer pulled in another breath and opened her hands. "Okay, I'm going back in. They might need my help."  
  
Kara didn't go with her, wandering to the Memorial Hall, and looking at the photos of those lost to the Cylons. She wasn't the only one there, either, and tensed in case anyone recognized her. But if anyone did, she didn't face any angry confrontations; she saw only hopelessness and numb loss.  
  
They'd found Earth and it was not only no paradise - it wasn't even home. The gods had tricked them, and the gift of the truth seemed a poor consolation.  
  
She lit a candle under Cally's picture, but she didn't pray to the gods. They didn't deserve her prayers.  
  


* * *

  
  
The day after Earth, Sam was starting to feel less as if his head wanted to explode. There had been so many questions, many of which he still couldn't answer, including the worst one of where to go now.  
  
Playa Palacios had re-broadcast his entire speech with some summary of the follow up questions. He'd agreed to go on Colonial Gang to discuss Earth and the First Cylon War tomorrow. It didn't help erase the despair of having no path and no goal left, now that Earth had been found destroyed, but it seemed to offer some distraction at least. It didn't seem enough, but it was all he could offer. He was the only one who remembered, so it fell on him. So he answered questions, and told the important truths.  
  
But not everything. A few things he held onto, unwilling to share the burden. There was more than enough.  
  
He started to be able to think of more than the past, and went to find Adama in his quarters. He tried not to mind the guards, knowing he was still suspect and dangerous, and stood at something like attention. "Admiral."  
  
"Lieutenant." Then Adama hesitated. "That seems… wrong, somehow. You're more than that now."  
  
Sam's hand rose to cover the tags. "I… I'll resign if you want me to, of course," he murmured, feeling stricken. "Because you're right, being a pilot is somewhere down the list of things I can help you with. But I don't think it hurts to have me, and therefore all the Cylons, under your command."  
  
Adama snorted. "You've never been under my command, Anders. Whatever you answer to, it isn't me. Never has been." Sam couldn't argue with that either, giving a bit of a wry smile of acknowledgment. "But all right," the Admiral said, "you have a point. We'll keep the appearance of it. Have a seat." As Sam sat in the chair on the opposite side, Adama put down his pen and regarded him. "I saw those experiments the Cylons were doing in the First War. They were trying to create some sort of human-cylon hybrid."  
  
"We saw them, too. They were terrible," Sam said, blinking back the memories. So many failed, horrific experiments. "That's one reason we made our offer."  
  
The other reason being that they hadn't had much choice but make the best deal they could. The  _Colony_  had been boarded by Colonial Centurions. The Five had been very careful, since numbers and strength had been stacked against them and they remembered how easily their own Centurions had turned against them.  
  
"We had tissue samples and gene sequences of family and friends, so we didn't need Humans," he added quietly. "We wanted our people to live again, even if they were only pale reflections of people we'd lost. Maybe we'd have recognized what was happening earlier if they'd looked like strangers."  
  
Or, really, if John hadn't looked like Ellen's father, maybe then Sam would've tried harder with him, instead of remembering how much he'd hated the bastard every time he looked at John's face. He wished futilely for a drink, knowing he could never wash this away, and rubbed his face.  
  
Adama frowned at him. "I appreciate you're taking responsibility, but I don't think you should take it all, Anders. We - the Colonies- made the Centurions and sparked that war on our own. You wouldn't have needed to intervene if we'd treated them well in the first place."  
  
Sam shrugged. That was true, but it didn't take away his fault and failure with John.  
  
Adama didn't pursue it. "But I don't think you came here to talk about those days."  
  
"Funnily enough you're one of the few I could," Sam pointed out. "But no. I came to warn you that you should move the Fleet. I realized today John must know where Earth is. He's always held the  _Colony_  and it was never a secret there."  
  
"He could come here?"  
  
"He's probably already on the way." Sam leaned forward clasping his hands earnestly. "He hates us. And I mean not just me, Tory, Galen and Saul - but the rebels and the Humans. Everyone. He's probably furious at the thought of Iris existing, especially after blowing the Hub. We shouldn't stay here."  
  
Adama laid down his pencil and leaned back. "Where do we go?"  
  
"Anywhere, away from here."  
  
"So you have no… messages? Visions?" Adama asked, and the very level gruff voice didn't cover the distaste for having to follow invisible paths and feelings from the gods.  
  
"No. Nothing. Maybe finding Earth was all I was used for. And I don't recall anything about the local star systems, unfortunately." He hesitated, realizing the  _Colony_  had taken astronomical data on the voyage, especially in the acceleration phase when the distortion had been far less. "That data is all on the  _Colony_."  
  
"You think the  _Colony_  is a threat to us?"  
  
"It didn't have weapons last I saw, but that was more than forty years ago. I'm sure it travels with baseships whether it's armed on its own or not."  
  
Adama nodded, reluctantly. "It's going to be hard on the Fleet with no course. Supplies are running low, and unrest will become violent with no end in sight. We can't settle here, but we need to see if there's food here."  
  
Sam shook his head, having not realized the situation was so dire. "Still, the Fleet's a sitting duck."  
  
The Admiral's expression was enough of a clue that the obvious hadn't escaped him. "How much time do you think we have until Cavil's faction gets here?"  
  
"I don't know that we have any," Sam answered. "I'm going to the baseship and see what I can get from the Hybrid." Not that he was looking forward to that, even with his memories intact. It was always a frightening, exhilarating yet agonizing experience.  
  
Sam was at the hatch before Adama called, "Anders. Tell me, how old are you?"  
  
Sam added it all up, "I was thirty-four on Earth. Twelve years subjective on the ship. Seven years creating the Eight. And about twenty in the Colonies that I remember." He smiled, teasing, "So yes, Admiral, I'm older than you are. And Saul is older than I am, though he doesn't remember it all."  
  
Adama got a chagrined look on his face as if he hadn't expected Sam to figure out why he wanted to know, then shook his head and waved Sam out. Sam's amusement lasted until he was in the corridor. More than eighty years of memories, all linear now, all where they should be, and a body that felt half that, which was one of the blessings of resurrection. But then it occurred to him there was still a gap. What had happened to him in between John's airlock and waking underneath the avalanche? Had he not existed, sleeping in resurrection stasis? That seemed too merciful for John. Had Sam had another life he didn't remember in those twenty years? Had he endured several deaths and resurrections as John attempted to make the brain block work?  
  
Then he sighed in resignation, figuring he knew more than enough already.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kara went to the mess reluctantly, knowing she had to eat something. Though really it wasn't the food that sucked, though it did; the whole aura of the ship was terrible. People stared at her or glared, blaming her for this pit not being what they were promised until she wanted to punch them and yell back that it wasn't her fault the gods were cruel.  
  
She got in line behind Narcho, who glanced at her and said nothing before returning to his bitching about tomorrow's assignment of running Cylons to ships of the Fleet. The rebels had volunteered, through Chief she'd heard, to help some of the ships that needed maintenance.  
  
Duck, in front of Narcho, snorted. "You want to swap? I'm taking people fishing tomorrow, and that's some long tedious shit, man."  
  
Her lips twitched in a smile. One of the Admiral's thoughts had been to test the fish in the hopes that if they couldn't live on Earth maybe they could find some food that wasn't horribly contaminated. Sam had offered locations of some prime fishing grounds two thousand years ago, which they were dispatching some smaller ships and Raptors to go down and try to net some samples.  
  
Fish. Kara would kill to eat some fish, and she didn't even  _like_  fish.  
  
Narcho muttered, "I'd rather be shooting Cylons."  
  
Duck let out a sigh. "They're trying to help, Noel."  
  
"Sure they are. Just like they helped on New Caprica. Or in the Colonies, where they killed everyone," Narcho retorted. "Why is it nobody remembers that?"  
  
"Nobody's forgetting," Duck said. "But holding onto it doesn't do any good. Not when these weren't part of it."  
  
"How do you know that?" Narcho demanded angrily. "Because Anders said so? He's not only a toaster frakker, and a toaster, he's the one who started the whole horror show by making the monsters in the first place. And you're gonna take his word for it?"  
  
Kara had enough. She overturned her glass of water on Narcho's tray, making him jump out of the splash and swear. "Frak, Starbuck, what the hell?"  
  
"Shut up," she snapped. "He also saved your ass how many times? He stopped the Cylon fleet at the Nebula. He tried to tell people not to go down to New Caprica, and nobody listened. And you know what, it's the gods who made all this happen, Narcho. Not him, not me -- the gods manipulated all of us. So be angry at them, not the people trying to help you, you ungrateful frakker."  
  
She grabbed her tray and stalked over to the table with Dragon and Hotdog. "Are you two going to be a pain in my ass, too?" she demanded.  
  
Hotdog's eyes flared with surprise and he shook his head. "No, Captain."  
  
Dragon snorted and kept eating. When it wasn't pissing her off, she loved how he was so laid-back about everything.  
  
Duck sat down next to her and told her in a quiet voice. "That's not the only time I've heard that. I was going to warn Sam, but I haven't seen him since this morning and he's not on the roster."  
  
"He's on the baseship," she answered. She'd heard he'd taken Thea and the baby to visit his pet Raider. Inwardly she shook her head -- only Sam would want to take a baby to visit a Raider and not get locked up for insanity.  
  


* * *

  
  
In the docking bay, Sam took Iris from Thea and walked across the deck to where Cerberus was waiting.  
  
Cerberus noticed he was carrying something, and its emotions grew curious and excited, watching as Sam approached. Then standing within the circle of Cerberus' great wings, Sam unwrapped the blanket and held her in both hands around her tiny ribcage.  
  
'This is my baby, my child, my offspring, she's my heart and my soul and I will die the day she does. There is nothing and no one in the universe I love more than her," he told Cerberus. "Iris, this is Cerberus, my friend."  
  
She looked at the giant head of the Raider and grinned toothlessly, waving a fist and burbling happily.  
  
And while before he'd always felt affection from Cerberus, for the first time, he felt something even stronger, as Cerberus reflected Sam's own love for Iris back at him. 'Yes, I love her. I need her safe.'  
  
Cerberus' emotions grew intense and protective, as if in oath. Sam set Iris down on Cerberus' wing on her tummy and she started grabbing at the smooth metal, wriggling around curiously.  
  
He watched, smiling. This told him Thea was right -- the past was in the past, and Iris was the future. He had to fix it all for her, give her a future without fear in life and without an ending in the void. Elysium for her, too.  
  
"Sam!" Thea called and he turned.  
  
Two Centurions were standing beside her, but looking at him. One of them, once it saw it had his attention, raised spidery claws in a distinct 'come here' gesture. Curious, since they rarely seemed to interact with any of the flesh models, he picked up Iris - who started to complain upset about being removed - and he hushed her against his chest, while approaching the Centurions.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked Thea.  
  
But she shook her head, just as puzzled. "I have no idea. I know what the others did to free them, but … this is just as odd to me. I think they want us to follow."  
  
As they followed, Cerberus screeched and the Centurions faltered a step.  
  
Thea leaned close and murmured, "Did Cerberus just warn the Centurions?"  
  
Sam chuckled. "I think so."  
  
She shook her head. "I suppose it's no wonder knowing who and what you are, now, but it's still amazing to me."  
  
He shrugged. "It's new to me, too. There's nothing I remember about the Raiders being capable of this much independent reasoning. And I shouldn't be able to communicate with him at all; that's new." He glanced at her, thinking that he wished she was new, too. He shifted Iris to one arm and she grabbed at his hair, as they followed the Centurions into the lift.  
  
One Centurion put one hand on the panel and the lift slowed and stopped, at what appeared to be between level fifteen and sixteen. The door slid open.  
  
"Be careful," Thea urged, "We're between floors, and…" her voice trailed off as it was clear they were not actually between floors at all. The corridor was like any other, but dim and empty. "What is this place?" she asked stepping out and looking around. "This level can't exist."  
  
One Centurion stepped out of the lift and planted itself there, to wait.  
  
Sam and Thea moved down the corridor, curious. At first they passed an open and empty living chamber, containing a couch and a bed. Then at the next chamber, Sam poked his head in to check it. It was dark, but the lights came up at his movement and he saw a resurrection tub.  
  
His chest seemed tight as he moved closer to look inside. There, floating in the milky water and sound asleep, was Saul Tigh.  
  
"Sam!" Thea called distantly from another room. "I think I found Ellen!" He hurried to the chamber on the opposite side of the hall to stand next to Thea and look down. "She's so young…" Thea murmured.  
  
Sam's voice was flat, as he explained what he knew, "John could stop the growth at any point. This is how I was a teenager on Picon."  
  
Then he whirled around and ran from chamber to chamber until he found his own. And he stared at his own face, which looked close in age, feeling numb and sick. "Oh my God."  
  
Thea stood at his shoulder. "So you could have resurrected before we destroyed the Hub," she murmured. "The Ones must have kept these secret levels on every baseship, in case one of you died."  
  
"So he could resurrect us in secret. And he could wipe our memories and try again." His voice was like sand, and he couldn't blink, staring at the proof that everything he believed about John was true. It was horrifying to look at that blank face and know it was waiting there for John's cycle of torture to begin again.  
  
"I know it's not you, but could you wake him up? He could be your brother?" she asked wistfully.  
  
"No. They're empty shells. You and your siblings were created with the personality baseline matrix already a part of you, but the five of us developed ours organically. So that… it's just a body unless my memories are downloaded into it. We didn’t want to create duplicates of ourselves."  
  
He handed Iris to Thea, bent down and pulled the power conduit from the back. The lights around the rim of the tub went dark and milky liquid turned utterly still.  
  
"What are you doing?" She asked, sounding horrified as if he were murdering himself.  
  
But he knew he wasn't. That thing in the tub wasn't a person and never would be. "No matter what happens with John, the Fleet, or resurrection for everyone else, this is it for me. No more cheating death."  
  
Then bitterly, if only to himself and the gods, he added,  _I understand the lesson. I know what my destiny is, if only to stand before all of you and spit in your face_.  
  
The head slipped underneath the surface without a ripple until it was gone.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
It wasn't any easier to give his hand to the Hybrid this time, Sam found. He still felt sick and his heart started to pound the instant he saw the chamber. Catching his breath seemed difficult.  
  
Thea's hand closed on his arm. "Are you sure you should do this?"  
  
"I need to find a planet or the  _Colony_. It went okay last time," he said, more to convince himself of it than it actually being true. Brushing his fingers on Iris' cheek to remind himself of what was important, he inhaled a deep breath to settle his apprehension and walked across the deck to the Hybrid's tub.  
  
The Hybrid's eyes found his and he knelt beside her.  
  
Her physical form was adapted from samples of a co-worker at Dominion, he now remembered. The Centurions had wanted an improvement on their own attempt at a humanoid control center for the ship. He hadn't wanted to do it, not seeing the necessity for any physical form at all if there was a computer core, but the Centurions had insisted. They'd all received more than they ever expected.  
  
He rubbed at his forehead, a seed of a headache already forming, then slipped his hand in the water to grab her hand.  
  
The datastream opened up, one small room blossoming into the universe.  
  
Earth. His home. Hung tantalizingly close. The ship. The past. It sucked him in, back and back, as the clouds swirled angrily and the storms raged for decade after decade, back and back, into deepest winter. The land and sea and clouds all were gray and lifeless, until he cried out in anguish, watching it die.  
  
He shoved it away, unable to bear more, tossed on chaotic waves without direction. Piece by piece he recollected what he was supposed to be doing.  
  
The  _Colony_. Where is it?  
  
He groped through the stream, like trying to catch a fish by hand. He brushed it, but it eluded him, wriggling free.  _Where are you? I know you're not that far away_ … He searched again, found it again, but it resisted his grip, pushing him away.  
  
 _I'm the maker, you answer to me. Where are you_?  
  
But the other Hybrids, John's Hybrids, resisted him, blocking the  _Colony_  behind a net of their minds and they didn't obey. He could unpick the net, unravel the programming, but he was too far and it would take too long.  _Damn you John_.  
  
He turned away, and bit by bit, pulled himself back in, tighter and smaller, until he could step out.  
  
The ceiling lights seemed too bright as he opened his eyes, finding himself on his back. Thea hovered over him, her expression worried. "How are you?"  
  
He sat up, stomach heaving with sudden nausea at the movement and his head pounded. "I think that went better."  
  
Her hand was gentle on the back of his neck. "I still don't like seeing you hurt like that."  
  
"I'm okay." He straightened, hoping his headache would pass if he ignored it. "The  _Colony_  has multiple Hybrids. They're defending the datastream and don't listen to me."  
  
Thea sat back, settling Iris in the basin of her crossed legs and Iris gummed at her fist with slurping sounds and looking all around with big, curious eyes. "How is that possible? Shouldn't they all listen and obey you?"  
  
"There's some sort of programming firewall. I could break it, but it would take time and would probably warn John that one of us is aware again. That might be the only advantage we have, so I don't think I should spend it so soon."  
  
"So you don't know where it is?"  
  
He shook his head a little, wincing at the resulting throb, and shrugged instead. "No. Not specifically. It can't be too far, though. This side of the Temple, I'm sure. Struggling with them meant I couldn't sift the datastream for a new planet either." He let out a sigh, realizing his head was killing him for nothing.  
  
"I wonder," she said softly, glancing down at Iris. "I know we need food, but how could we dare to settle with the Ones and the rest still out there?"  
  
"We couldn't," he agreed and stared across the room blankly, remembering those first days on the  _Colony_  with John. He'd been their first, their success, their son … until he'd become their failure. "I have to end him."  
  
He started at the touch of her hand atop his. "We," she corrected. "We have to end him. All of us."  
  
His lips made a wry smile and he pulled away. "Now if only I had the least frakking idea of how to do that."  
  
"You'll find a way," she declared. "But I think you need rest first. You have that interview with the reporters tomorrow." He groaned and she laughed. "That's what you get for telling a reporter that you have a secret."  
  
He took Iris to help Thea get to her feet, and her eyes met his, smiling slowly. "This is our baseship," she reminded him. "With our bed…"  
  
The panic was instantaneous: near revulsion swept through him, followed by the harsh reminder that she wasn't the same. It wasn't the same. It wasn't wrong.  
  
But the memory of a sweet smile and shining eyes as she proudly showed him the first small fruit forming on her very own plant in the  _Colony's_  garden made the thought of going to bed with her impossible, no matter how many times he reminded himself that Thea wasn't the Six he'd thought of as his daughter. She was a mother, not a daughter. She wasn't a child.  
  
None of it meant a damn thing to the anxious coils in his stomach. He licked dry lips, and found an excuse. "I -- we should go back to  _Galactica_. Iris' things are there, and I told the Admiral I'd report as soon as I knew something."  
  
Her eyes searched his, knowing something was wrong, but thankfully she didn't insist.  
  


* * *

  
  
In the morning, Kara glared at the board in the pilot's ready room. Lacking Raptors was the problem. Vipers did a bit of the fishing assistance and CAP, but they needed Raptors to transport people and there just weren't enough. The Cylons were sending out Heavy Raiders to use their longer-range sensors to look for habitable worlds around potential nearby stars, but it was going to take a while.  
  
In the meantime, the fishing expedition was coming up with nothing. There was no lack of sea creatures, but too close to shore the fallout washed down and into the entire food chain. Duck and his squad were turning their attention to the deeper oceans, where heavy isotopes would sink to the ocean floor, but even she knew deep water had fewer fish, so she had a bad feeling it wasn't going to be enough. Though gods knew, even a little bit would be a welcome addition. And maybe if they could find some small ones they could put them in water tanks to breed and eat on the way…  
  
She wrote down her idea while she listened with half her attention to Colonial Gang on the wireless. Palacios and McManus interviewed Sam, as he mostly confirmed and elaborated on the story he'd told. He seemed comfortable talking to them, confident in what he was saying, until the conversation turned toward the making of the Cylons and she could hear the regret and guilt coming through.  
  
" _Do you regret the making of them_?"  
  
He struggled to be coherent. " _Of John, yes. Something we did - some flaw - I don't know why, but … he went terribly wrong. And there's so little I can do… I want to help, I want the Cylons to help to try to-- I can't fix it, or undo the attacks or the deaths. I don't know if there's ever anything we can do that can really make amends. I think ending resurrection was a start, but… all we can do is offer our help. A few of the ships in the Fleet have contacted Chief Tyrol to find out if Cylons can help with ship repairs, so later on today, we'll start that. And perhaps if all goes well, we can help with other things also. Also Heavy Raiders are searching nearby stars for habitable planets_."  
  
" _And what would you say to those who think you and the Cylons should be punished? Even killed for the atrocities committed by them_?" Palacios asked.  
  
Sam didn't answer immediately. " _I would ask in return what would you gain? Vengeance? And against whom? The Cylons here aren't the ones who were the architects; these are the ones who fought a civil war, trying to protect the human fleet. They gave up resurrection, accepted death, so they could understand humans and what they'd done. And as for me_  --" he paused and added more softly, " _there's no punishment anyone could give me greater than remembering Earth die, and the knowledge that I helped it happen again. I was there when the Colonies fell; I saw it, I lived it - I felt that same anger and grief. I still do. To know that John did it because of me, because I failed… it's a heavy weight. And I'll welcome the day I don't have to live with that anymore_."  
  
Kara put down her pen, a chill gathering in her chest and slipping across her skin. For her, it hadn't been that long since she'd heard him say similar words, as he tried to throw himself into the gas giant. And that had been before he knew one of his creations had murdered billions of people.  
  
But he went on, slipping past the implication hurriedly, as if he hadn't intended to say it aloud, " _But what I want to do is try to make amends as best I can. I consider both humans and Cylons my people, and I want them to live together in peace. That's all I've ever wanted from the days I was one of five people crawling between the stars, trying to find the Twelve Tribes. I believe we can only go forward together. That's why I came to tell the truth as soon as I remembered. I wanted the people of the Fleet to have more understanding of Cylons and what really happened. It's only through understanding the past we can avoid making the same mistakes_."  
  
McManus asked, " _After all that's happened, do you really believe that peace is possible_?"  
  
" _I have to, don't I_?" Sam answered. " _My baby daughter's a Cylon. I want her to grow up and be loved, and have family. I was one of five; I don't want my child to be alone. She's innocent of the sins of her parents, and I want her and Hera to lead the way to a time when the Thirteen Tribes are united. I know it's asking a lot. But I believe together's the only way we'll ever find a new home_."  
  
They ended the questioning then, and Kara flipped off the wireless before the reporters could discuss it among themselves.  
  
His words seemed to echo inside of her, somewhere deep inside hitting her as something true and right. Something she also believed, but she hadn't yet put into words. As if it he was speaking directly to her.  
  
 _Together_.  
  
She tried to shrug it off, tell herself she was imagining it, but the feeling lingered.  
  
  


* * *

 tbc...

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: the first part of this chapter is based on the "Face of the Enemy" webisodes. That's may be an unfamiliar piece of canon these days for those who came to the show later but you should totally check them out. The results here are quite different, of course, so don't worry. 
> 
> I'm still gonna post the fic to the end, but it would be nice to know if anyone's actually reading it here? I see a handful of hits each week, but those could be people clicking into the first chapter. anyone? *mournful author-puppy eyes*

* * *

  
Sam walked with the flight-suit wearing Eight into the docking bay. "Thank you for volunteering, Shira."  
  
She nodded. "Of course. I remember what you said about helping back at New Cap."  
  
He saw an unfamiliar Eight waiting for them and gave her a little smile. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name. Have you taken one?"  
  
She ducked her head, smiling shyly back. "Felicia."  
  
"Felicia," he repeated. "Nice, I like it. This is important for us, to help the Fleet. I know it might be ... difficult for you." He could feel resentful looks from some of the watchers on the deck, and it was probably worse out among the Fleet.  
  
"We know," Shira answered. "We'll be fine, Sam."  
  
He lowered his voice and added, "Defend yourselves, but try not to hurt anyone. We're hanging by a really fine thread right now. So please be careful and polite. Admire babies. Do whatever you can to make yourselves friendly." He noticed the other two passengers watching, and brought them over to meet each other. "Lieutenant Gaeta, and Specialist Brooks, isn't it?" he asked the orange-suited deckhand, who nodded.  
  
"Yes, sir," Brooks said with a nervous shuffle and glance at the two Eights. He wore some sort of religious medallion with his dogtags, Sam noticed, which was unusual and reserved for those who were priests or brothers in a temple. He caught a glimpse of a trident, and smiled to himself. Brooks was probably fellow Piconese, if devotion to Poseidon was an indication.  
  
Sam introduced, "This is Shira and Felicia. They're going to the  _Zephyr_ , to see if they can help with the hydroponics system."  
  
Easy appeared in the hatch. "Raptor 718 now boarding, with service to the  _Zephyr_ , and  _Inchon Vale_ ," she called out with a grin that didn't falter when she saw the Cylons waiting. "Please have your tickets in hand. Unless you're Oracle, and then I'll accept a kiss as my payment," she teased.  
  
"Sorry, I'm not going," he called up to her and she pouted. "Take care of them, Easy." Sam nodded to Shira and Felicia. "Good luck."  
  
He noticed Felicia was smiling at Gaeta, as if she knew him, and when Gaeta stumbled on the ramp, she helped him up again.  
  
They all disappeared inside, and he realized he was a little anxious as the hatch closed. He moved back, reminding himself not to be such a frakking parent sending the kids off to school for the first time. They were going to the  _Zephyr_ , not the  _Astral Queen_ , and they had been invited. Sending Cylons to help people surely had to help reduce tensions. It was going to be okay.  
  
Once they were gone, he waved to Galen and left the docking bay. He didn't get very far before the alert went through the ship and they were jumping. He started toward CIC, hoping they hadn't had contact with the other Cylons. But he was only halfway there, when Tigh's brief announcement that it had been a false alarm rang through the ship, and he continued on his original course to see Thea and Iris.  
  
It was still the brig, but the door was open and there were no guards now, and they could leave when they wished.  
  
Thea was there, dangling a small Raider model over Iris' face and swinging it, so she could bat at it with her fists.  
  
She glanced at him and then said to Iris, "Daddy's back, sweetie."  
  
He swooped in and kissed Thea's cheek, reaching down to tickle Iris' tummy. "Hello, ladies." Iris giggled, and bat at the Raider again. He perched on the other edge of the cot, and watched her play for a little while. "Is that Cerberus?"  
  
She nodded. But when she spoke again, it was something else, "It's changed, hasn't it?" she asked softly. "You and me. I ... every time I look at you now, I know you were there. I  _exist_  because of you."  
  
Hearing her echo the feelings he'd been having made them suddenly real. "I -- I remember now," he agreed, keeping his eyes on Iris. "And I know it's foolish; I know you're not the one I watched be born. I know you're different. But what I feel... now that I remember, it's all confused. You're an adult, but in my memory, you look like the child we made. And it feels like a terrible sin when I think about making love to you. That's not your fault; it's me and this frakked up brain of mine that remembered everything in the wrong order."  
  
He stopped and swallowed, reaching out to touch Iris, stroking her feathery hair. "God, Thea, we frakked it up so badly with John. I... now I remember what a terrible father I was to him, and I pray Iris will be my redemption. Because I don't think I can endure failing her as badly as I did him. And as badly as I've failed you."  
  
She shook her head. "You've never failed me, Sam. You were as true to yourself as you could be, after what John did to you. I understand that. And when I look as Iris, I can never say it was a mistake. If we had known the truth, she wouldn't be born, and that has to be the reason."  
  
He bent down and kissed Iris' forehead. "Our miracle. But still, I'm sorry. If I could just forget... "  
  
"Sam, no." Thea reached across Iris and touched his lips to stop the miserable and guilty words. "You can't wish that. You're whole now. I can't regret that you know the truth now, because your truth is also my truth. All the lies are gone. We are Cylons, and for the first time, we can really choose our lives, because we know who we are." Her eyes were soft but wise and definitely not the same as the new being he remembered. Her fingers drifted down his cheek and neck. "My love for you has always been real, but I've always known our time together was borrowed. This is the final confirmation you don't belong to me alone, like I've wished -- you belong to all of us. You're our father, our creator, our oracle, our leader .... all of that and more. But you'll always be the father of my child also."  
  
He caressed her cheek and moved in across Iris, to kiss Thea's lips lightly. "Always. God, never doubt that I love you," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "You  _saved_  me. If I'm any of those things, it's because of you."  
  
"That seems fair, when I am what I am because of you," she returned with a soft smile.  
  
Between them, Iris gurgled and grabbed at Sam's elbow, trying to bring it into her mouth.  
  
Feeling more at peace, Sam sat up again and lifted Iris, wafting a new smell his way. He wrinkled his nose and held her out as far as he could. She grinned at him as if what she'd done had been a funny joke at his expense.  
  
Thea chuckled. "She has a present for you."  
  
"She has impeccable timing," he added dryly and got up to take her to the side table.  
  
The domestic routine felt normal and content, until a faint whisper of  _something_  broke into the silly faces he was making at Iris to make her laugh. He turned his head, at first thinking Thea had said something, but then he realized whatever it was, seemed to be far away.  
  
But that was impossible. He'd been to Earth, his memories were restored -- it was supposed to be  _over_.  
  
Thea took note of his expression and rose to her feet. "Sam?"  
  
"I... feel something. Calling me."  
  
"Like the Temple?"  
  
"No, not really," he murmured. "Not music. More like someone calling my name far away."  
  
"It must be important." She took the freshly-diapered baby back from his arms and gave him a little push. "We're fine. Go."  
  
He kissed Iris' head and left the brig. At first he considered tracking the sound on Galactica, but that felt wrong. The sound was distant and he needed to track it with a ship.  
  
He turned his feet toward CIC. Just inside the hatch, he hesitated, uncertain what he could possibly say. Maybe it would be better to go to the baseship and get a Heavy Raider...  
  
Adama, down below at the table, glanced up and his sharp eyes caught sight of the interloper in his CIC. "Lieutenant?"  
  
Sam came down the steps a little ways to explain his interest. "I... I need a Raptor, Admiral. There's something out there, and I need to go find it."  
  
"Something?" Adama repeated.  
  
Sam shrugged tightly. "I don't know. I can't tell. But the last time I felt anything like this, I found the Temple, so I think it might be important."  
  
"Maybe it's Raptor 718," Hoshi suggested, from Sam's right.  
  
He turned, startled. "718? What happened?"  
  
"They're missing," Hoshi told him. "Shark repeated the coordinates, but they must have missed the jump. They're not here, and we've already checked at the old coordinates. Maybe it's them," he suggested, his young face hopeful.  
  
"I guess it could be," Sam agreed slowly. "There were two Eights on that Raptor. Though I've never sensed any Cylon in danger before." Though he had never before understood his connection to them before either, so maybe that was the reason. "I might be able to find them."  
  
Tigh snorted. "If they frakked the jump, they'll have to find us. No one can find it."  
  
"I can try," Sam offered, and Hoshi's face brightened.  
  
"Sir," Hoshi addressed the Admiral. "Gaeta's on that Raptor, too. Please, I'd like to go with Oracle and look for them."  
  
Adama's gaze met Hoshi's, and the younger man's face turned slightly pink under the regard. Adama's expression softened a little and he nodded. "Very well, go. Take a second pilot, just in case. If you can bring that wayward bird home, all the better."  
  
Hoshi followed Sam out and in the corridor, he asked, "Do you really think you might be able to find them?"  
  
"Hoshi, I don't know if that's what's calling to me. Maybe it is," he shrugged. "It may be something else entirely." He turned to Hoshi, and they stopped in the middle of the corridor. "If this is something else, I have to follow it. I learned a long time ago to heed the call when it came. And even though I know there are six people on that Raptor who need rescuing, if that's not where I'm going that's not where you're going either, if you come with me."  
  
"If they could jump back, they already would have," Hoshi answered, soft but firm. "Something's wrong. And you're the only lead I have."  
  
"All right. Just so you understand."  
  
Sam changed into his flight suit and headed to the flight deck where Racetrack was waiting. "Oracle," she nodded politely, if a bit stiffly.  
  
"Thank you for volunteering," he told her. "I expect I can do most of it myself, but thanks for the backup."  
  
"Do you really think you can find 718?" she asked.  
  
"I don't know," he answered. "But there's something out there calling my name, and I have to go find it. I assume it's Felicia and Shira, but," he shrugged. "let's go find out."  
  
In space he closed his eyes and let his hands guide the ship by instinct, going toward the …  _voice_. It was hard following that thread - it got a little easier when he projected his boat and filled the sail with wind and let it blow him the right way.  
  
"This is ridiculous," Racetrack muttered to Hoshi. "You can't think this is gonna work."  
  
"He hears something," Hoshi defended him.  
  
"He's a frakking toaster," she objected as if he couldn't hear her in the other seat.  
  
"No, he's not like the others," Hoshi answered. "You know that, Maggie."  
  
She snorted skeptically. Sam heard but ignored them both, following the faint trail. "Damn," he muttered as it fell away from him. "Lost it. C'mon, call me again…"  
  
He caught it again, and followed for another half an hour until it faded away. "Damn it."  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"It's gone."  
  
"You lost it?"  
  
"Whatever was calling … it's stopped."  
  
"But you can find it again," Hoshi declared with such faith that Sam couldn't tell him no.  
  
"I'll try," he answered and shut his eyes to project his boat again all around him, casting the memory of the sunlight across the water and the wind stirring the surface and snapping in the sail…  
  
 _Where are you? Shira… Felicia … Gaeta… Brooks… Esrin… Shark… One of you, where are you, let me find one of you_ …  
  
Then it was as if he was dropping down through the boat, intangible, leaving the boat behind as he sank into the sea. At first it was beautiful and vibrant with living things, colors like jewels, and yet he went beneath those too, deeper, beyond the light, to the depths where life was rare and fragile … All was black and empty.  
  
No, not empty. There. A tiny jellyfish, with a light flashing inside it, like a blue heartbeat. More of them. Tiny little creatures huddled together in the darkness, lost.  
  
There. Life in the deep of space…  
  
He forced his voice to work, "Give me the controls."  
  
There was a pressure on his chest as if he was pushing hard against something that tried to hold him back, but he pushed harder, reaching out to grab it.  
  
And it was so hard - if there was a datastream this would be so much easier - but he had to hold onto that location and translate it into real-world coordinates…. He felt stretched, his mind trying to hold these two things at once, and a sharp pain bloomed in his head, as if tearing under the strain.  
  
But he had it.  
  
 _Jump. There_.  
  
When he opened his eyes he knew the other Raptor would be there. He sucked in air frantically, and wanted to wipe the sweat from his temples, feeling as if he'd just run miles. Slumping back in his seat, he had a throbbing headache and he was desperately thirsty, but at least he'd done it.  
  
"Oh, my gods," Maggie whispered. "It's them."  
  
"Hail them," Hoshi requested urgently.  
  
She reached for the controls, when Sam couldn't find the strength yet to move and do it himself. "Raptor 718, Racetrack. Status?"  
  
There was no answer at first then Gaeta's voice came through, " _Racetrack? Gaeta. This… I … Oh gods. You found us, I can't believe it, I_ \-- " He laughed with a tinge of hysteria to it. " _I thought we were dead_."  
  
Hoshi couldn't hold back. "Felix, it's Louis. What's your status? Are you all right?"  
  
" _Louis! Thank the gods_."  
  
Then Esrin's voice, " _Racetrack, Easy. CO2 scrubbers are failing, we've got about ten hours left of air at sixty-percent. You're lucky you got here; we were just about to jump. How the hell did you find us_?"  
  
"Oracle did," Racetrack said and glanced at him. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Anders!"  
  
"What?" he asked shortly, too tired to be more polite. He wasn't sure if he cared what her problem was now. They'd found 718 and he wanted to go home and sleep for a week.  
  
She mimed at her nose and he lifted his to touch his, finding that irritating drip was blood. He looked at the smear on his fingers, before swearing tiredly, "Crap. I knew I pushed too hard." He pinched his nose and tilted his head back to wait for it to stop.  
  
" _Damn_ ," Easy murmured. " _Thanks, Oracle. Don't know how you did it, but I don't care. Oh, we did have one casualty - Shira was accidentally electrocuted trying to fix the scrubbers. Sorry. But everyone else is okay_."  
  
He closed his eyes, thinking of how eagerly she'd escorted him around the baseship and how she'd wanted to know everything about Athena. She'd had her chance to meet her sister and she'd wanted to try to do good, too, and now she was dead.  
  
The other officers made arrangements to couple together and transfer some of their air, and their Raptor would take on Felicia, Brooks and Gaeta, to let Shark and Easy jump 718 back.  
  
Sam vaguely wanted to help and started to get up, but Hoshi put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in the seat. "We've got this," he said, squeezing lightly. "Take it easy."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Hoshi smiled at him. "No, thank you."  
  
It felt good to have someone appreciate what he was trying to do, Sam thought as he leaned back and shut his eyes again.  
  
Finally Felicia and Brooks and Gaeta all came aboard, and Sam turned his seat to watch as Hoshi embraced and kissed Gaeta as soon as their helmets were off. Felicia watched, looking briefly sad. Brooks came in farther to offer his hand awkwardly to Sam. "You saved us."  
  
Sam forced a smile. "Least I could do for a fellow Piconese." But the smile faded as he got a look at Felicia, who moved nearer, not meeting his eyes. "Felicia? What's wrong? I know about Shira, Easy told me."  
  
She shook her head and stared at the deck. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should've had more faith."  
  
He frowned, wondering if he was too tired to figure out why she was upset about that. "No, it worked. I heard your call…"  
  
She shook her head. "I didn't call you. I didn't believe anyone could save us…"  
  
"Then Shira did, I guess. It's okay, Felicia."  
  
"No, my sister's dead because I didn't believe," she insisted, upset. Then turned away, folding her arms, as Racetrack brushed past to retake her seat.  
  
Racetrack asked, "Oracle, you up to copilot? Or Gaeta?"  
  
"I'm good," Sam confirmed and turned back to the front.  
  
"All right." She contacted Easy and Shark on the wireless and the two jumped in tandem, heading back along the course to the Fleet.  
  
Immediately the DRADIS lit up with sensor contacts.  
  
"Frak! We've got company!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Fleet?" Racetrack demanded.  
  
"No frakking way. Cylon." He knew that without needing IFF - it was clear from the fleet arrangement on the dradis, and something there was enormous.  
  
"Shit," Racetrack grabbed the controls, turning the ship to look at the biggest of the contacts. She gasped as it filled the cockpit window. "What the hell is that?"  
  
Sam glanced up to see it and his stomach fell. "Frak. Jump us out of here. Anywhere. Go."  
  
She didn't quibble or ask where and got on the wireless, "Easy, jump now. Enemy contacts. Jump in five."  
  
Sam stared at the ship in horror and awe. It looked a bit like the Hub, but huge, blocking out the light of distant stars and gleaming with its own radiance from the engines and lights along the docking arms, like a huge urchin from beneath the sea.  
  
It was much bigger than he remembered, and what he remembered hadn't been small. Gun placements, arms that held entire basestars the way the basestars docked the Raiders, and engine core the size of  _Galactica_ … frak, it was big. But still visible inside was the original ship, where he and Galen, Tory, Saul and Ellen had slept and worked their lonely way across the galaxy from Earth back to Kobol. It held the original resurrection chambers, and now he remembered how they'd been destroyed at the Temple of Hopes in the rebellion of the death cultists. He and Galen and Tory had fixed them, never remembering they'd been the ones to build them in the first place.  
  
The Raptor jumped and left the giant ship behind.  
  
He let out a breath of relief, echoed by the others in the cabin.  
  
Easy's voice came over the wireless. " _What - what the frak was that_?"  
  
Racetrack swallowed hard and turning to him in frightened demand, while the others who'd huddled behind them to get a look, looked the same.  
  
He opened the wireless and said to them all. "The  _Colony_. My former home, and our enemy's base," Sam answered heavily. "John's closer than I hoped. We've got to get back and warn them. Then, we decide what to do."  
  
"Do?" Racetrack demanded, looking at him with wide shocked eyes as if she thought he'd gone insane. "What the hell can we do against that thing? It could swallow the whole fleet for breakfast. We run as far as we can, as fast as we can, that's all we can do."  
  
"Yeah, maybe," he murmured, glancing back out the window at the emptiness there but thinking about the  _Colony_. If he could take it back somehow…  
  
Maggie read something of his thoughts in his expression and exclaimed, "We can't fight it! You're out of your frakking mind!"  
  
That made him smile and he reached across to pat her arm. "I know, but that's why it's going to work."  
  
On the way back, he looked out the window at the distant stars and knew despite his boast, it wasn't going to be that easy. But there was no question in his mind that they had to take the  _Colony_  somehow. Not only did the Fleet need to get John off their back, but once he had the  _Colony_ , it wouldn't matter how long they took to find a new planet.  
  
Finally, he saw a way to save everyone.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sharon stood in the dim slot near the hatch, underneath the overhang. She'd come from the baseship to hear about Raptor 718 and Sam's mission to find them, but now she admitted, if only to herself, that had been just an excuse.  
  
She didn't need to visit  _Galactica_. In fact, it was probably unwise, given tensions and her own memories of what had happened to her. But there were good memories, too, and she couldn't help a little smile as she watched Galen work.  
  
She was glad, too, that his crew seemed to not care about his being a Cylon. They followed his orders and grumbled behind his back, just as they always had.  
  
He noticed she was there, watching him, or at least finally decided to come confront her about it. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he came over to her. At first his expression was a little annoyed, but then changed, and he frowned a little in confusion and asked, "Boomer?"  
  
Her smile widened. "Hello. Again."  
  
"It's you," he said. "Somehow I knew that."  
  
"Sam's always been able to tell each model apart," she offered. "I'm sure that's what it is."  
  
"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged. "It's so weird hearing about all that," he admitted. "All that stuff I don't remember. It was hard enough feeling I'm a Cylon, but now to know there's years and years of memories I'm missing…" he trailed off, shaking his head, and then glanced up at her. "You must feel a bit the same way, huh? With the way your memories were messed with, too."  
  
"I did," she agreed and gave a little laugh. "I still do sometimes. I have weird gaps in my knowledge like my download was a little frakked. It shouldn't happen that way, but it did."  
  
He nodded thoughtfully. "There is no perfect system."  
  
"No, and definitely not the Cylon one. Speaking of," She hesitated and licked her lips. "I … I wanted to say, Galen… I know you probably hate me -- us -- for it, but I wanted you to know I'm sorry about Cally and your son. I didn't know about it until it was too late, but I swear I would've tried to stop it."  
  
He ducked his head and wiped his hands on the cloth again. "I know," he said finally. "I remember you helped."  
  
She looked into his face, filled with sad longing for what she and they had once had, knowing it was all spoiled by who she was and who he was and what had happened. Then she inhaled a breath and squared her shoulders again. "Okay. I'll see you later, Chief."  
  
She'd gotten two steps when his voice called her back. "Sharon?"  
  
Eagerly she turned back, hoping, even though she warned herself not to hope for anything, "Yes?"  
  
"I don't hate you. And … I don't really know who and what I am," he confessed slowly. "I don't know that all of what Sam said is even true; I don't remember it. I don't feel it. And I don't know if I ever will. What I know is you're a Cylon and I'm a Cylon, and the rest of it doesn't matter."  
  
Hopeful that he meant was she thought he meant, she looked into his eyes, tremulously smiling and starting to reach out, when the red alert klaxon crashed over them, making them both start. Then word came in from CIC for all hands to prepare to jump.  
  
"Oh, no, does that mean they've found us?" Sharon exclaimed in dismay.  
  
"Maybe it's another false alarm like before," Galen said. They both hurried toward the central chief's station, where Brasko was on the phone with CIC or LSO.  
  
"Chief!" Brasko reported as they got near, glancing at Sharon. "They found our missing bird. As soon as both Raptors are aboard, we're out of here."  
  
Galen strode away to get the deck ready for Viper launch, and Sharon tried to stay out of the way.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The conference in the Admiral's quarters was small, so Sam could brief the Admiral and Roslin first about the  _Colony_. Saul was there, too, to hear, but that was all for this briefing.  
  
The President sat on the admiral's rack, while he was at his desk, and Saul and Sam brought chairs from the other room.  
  
They'd already jumped the Fleet away. Sam felt they were less of a sitting duck, now that they were away from Earth, but he still worried that John had seen the Raptors and now he knew that they knew he was there. That was going to provoke a response; at minimum he'd want to find them.  
  
"So, the  _Colony_ ," Adama glanced at the report and photos printed off the Raptor's logs. "Impressive."  
  
"You can see the original ship's outlines inside -- that's the core, here." He leaned over and traced it in on the photos while Adama and Tigh leaned in to watch, curiously. "The rest of it is like the baseships, grown over it, like a shell. There are weapons all along here, and the two baseships docked on the two arms have them, too, of course."  
  
Adama shook his head and let out a sigh. "And so big."  
  
"The  _Colony_  itself is easily twice  _Galactica_. It once held about four thousand people leaving Kobol," he murmured but then drew a breath. "And that's why we have to take it."  
  
Saul snorted. "With what? Spears and arrows? Because we've got nothing that can touch it."  
  
"Why would you want to risk attack?" Roslin asked, rising from the bed and approaching curiously. Adama stood to give her his chair but declined Saul's silent offer of his own chair with a shake of his head, to stand beside Roslin. She ignored this to meet Sam's gaze. "I understand as long as this ship exists we're in danger. But you didn't say destroy it; you said take it. Why?"  
  
"It's a colony ship, meant to transport thousands of people for a long period of time. I know a lot of the ships in the Fleet are damaged, and all those people could fit into the  _Colony_  and live much better lives."  
  
Saul shook his head. "Not enough for the risk. This thing isn't a battleship, it's a gods-damned fortress."  
  
Sam glanced at Roslin and wondered if she agreed that the risk wasn't worth it. She knew very well how miserable some of the other ships were and how much worse they'd get if they didn't get to land soon. And finding a planet anytime soon, when habitable planets were so thinly spread, was the real problem they faced, now that Earth had become such a waste.  
  
"There's a bigger reason. If we take it over, we can save everyone in the Fleet." At their look of surprise and confusion, Sam smiled a little and leaned back to explain. "One of the things the Colonies don't know, or don't understand, about Kobol is what the original Cylons were. They weren't machines, they weren't AI… that wasn't what it was about."  
  
"No? What then?" Adama prompted curiously.  
  
Sam explained, "The Psi Alliance was a group of scientists, who learned how to make new bodies and to transfer memories from one to another. The Kobolian Psi-lon and the Thirteenth Tribe were made up of those who had resurrected. Some of the others felt that was wrong and they weren't really people and there was a war--" he blinked back the memory, realizing he was straying. "The point is, resurrection was originally designed for humans. And if we take over the  _Colony_ , I can bring it back. It won't matter how long it takes to find a new world, no one has to die."  
  
The other three were visibly stunned. Adama and Roslin shared a disbelieving glance, before she asked, "Resurrection for humans? You can do that?"  
  
"I don't have any direct memories of it myself, but I know it's possible," he declared. "And I do remember everyone could store their memories on the  _Colony_  for later download. That was how many other thousands of people traveled from Kobol to Earth." Not that it had worked out that way for all of them, after the cultists had destroyed the chambers at the Temple, but the technology would have worked. "One of the first things we did with the Centurions was rebuild the core to return the ship to that function. It was later superseded by the Hub, but those memory banks are still there, waiting to preserve human memories and give people new lives."  
  
"You're talking about turning Humans into Cylons," Adama said, frowning in worry and distaste.  
  
Sam returned, frustrated, "That's just a  _word_. What does it matter? This ship is dying, Admiral." The Admiral flinched at his words, but Sam knew he was right and kept going, mercilessly pounding his point. "Our people are  _dying_. We need a home, and if we can't find a planet, then the  _Colony_  can do that, at least for a while. That's what it was designed to do." He leaned forward, both hands on the table, switching his gaze from Adama to Roslin and back, imploring them. "We can save them, Admiral. I can save them. Nobody else has to die."  
  
"All right," Adama said, and when both Laura and Saul looked at him in shock, he lifted a hand, " _hypothetically_ , say we agree to try to capture  _Colony_ , the question is still how. So bring me a plan, Mister Anders -- a plan that won't make us worse off than running away.  _And_  --" he added with emphasis, "I want a plan to destroy it. If we can't take control of it, we can't let it remain in enemy hands. Are you willing to destroy it?"  
  
Sam wanted to say yes, but hesitated. "I - would rather not. It was my home, plus I think it's very important to us. But yes, I'll try a plan to destroy it too."  
  
Adama nodded slowly, thinking. "If you'd said yes too quickly, I wouldn't have believed you," he said. "And I wouldn't have approved this. But go ahead and we'll consider it."  
  
Sam knew from the look on Adama's face that if he had a good plan, it was a go. The way the Admiral had glanced at Laura, knowing she was dying of her cancer, was exactly why Sam had wanted resurrection in the first place.  
  
Standing, Sam asked, "Can I borrow Kara? I'm many things but military strategist isn't one of them."  
  
"Good choice," Adama approved. "Yes. And anyone else you want." The admiral gave a small wry shake of his head. "If we're going to do this, we do it right. But don't tell anyone about resurrection; that's going to be problematic."  
  
"You think?" Saul muttered.  
  
"It'll start looking a lot less problematic when people are starving," Sam pointed out. "or their ship starts cracking."  
  
Sam thought it was particularly ironic that Saul -- of all people -- was giving him that look, when Sam knew that Saul was the one who had made the memory scanner in the first place. But once they were on the  _Colony_  he could find a way to restore their memories and get those missing pieces of resurrection which weren't his specialty.  
  
But first, getting the  _Colony_. They'd jumped away from it, but they knew where it was. Even if John had jumped it away, both sides were now in the same position of knowledge -- with the added bonus that John couldn't possibly know that Sam remembered everything now.  
  
 _Which isn't going to be an advantage unless you can figure out a way to use that information to your advantage_.  
  
He found out that Kara had gone out on patrol, so while he waited for her to come back and to give himself time to think, he went to the room that held the pyramid backstop. He shut the hatch so he wouldn't be disturbed, then retrieved the ball from the side and for a moment stood, clasping the ball in both hands. Then he threw.  
  
This felt real. Focusing on the ball, finding that sweet spot in his throw, watching the ball float into the goal… it centered him, calming the whirl of what-ifs, memories, and half-baked plans.  
  
Thea's voice behind him made him jump. "What are you doing?"  
  
The ball left his hand and he grimaced. Not surprisingly it missed the hole completely and bounced back.  
  
He realized the hatch hadn't opened, so he smiled a little and caught the ball before he turned. The woman behind him looked like Thea, from her platinum blonde hair to the long legs, but it wasn't Thea or any other 'real' Six. He couldn't feel her as a Cylon at all, and he was sure she was a projection as Aurora had been. But, even though she wasn't Thea, she was wearing a red dress and heels that looked really sexy on her, and he couldn't help looking.  
  
She was the Six he'd seen in the Opera House vision once; the one who had said he had committed a crime and taken Hera from him. That meant she was also the one who visited Baltar and told him he had to die.  
  
But he was tired of being afraid and tired of them trying to push him around. It was time to push back. He made his voice friendly, but let her know he wasn't fooled by her appearance. "Well, hello there. I wondered when one of you would show up."  
  
She repeated, asking coolly, "What are you doing?"  
  
He held up the ball. "I'm practicing pyramid. When all the shit in my head starts getting to be too much, I come here and I throw the ball around."  
  
She stalked closer and narrowed her eyes at him with a predatory look. "Don't mock me," she warned in a low voice. "You know what I'm talking about."  
  
"I do." He met her eyes and let a smile emerge. "I'm calling your frakking bluff."  
  
She frowned, in momentary confusion. "What?"  
  
He inhaled a breath and walked away, trailing his free hand against the backstop. "I can remember about seventy years since I was born on Earth. Which isn't a long time compared to you, I'm sure, but it means I've played a lot of triad in my time. Strangely we called it pyramid on Earth," he glanced at the pyramid ball with a brief smile, "but it was basically the same game. Since I'm calling, let me show you all my cards." His hand tightened on the ball and he stared right into her face, laying it all out for the first time giving a voice to his plan. "I will give resurrection to the Humans. I will make them all members of my tribe. And then you'll be forced to decide once and for all: Elysium for all, or for none. And I'm betting the Creator isn't going to go for 'none'."  
  
She listened to his plan. "You think you've trumped us," she observed, not without a bit of an approving smile. "That we have no alternative."  
  
"I'm tired of fighting over and over again -- fighting  _gods_  -- for something which should be ours by right. But now I have a way to save everyone."  
  
"The Humans won't do it."  
  
"Not all of them. But enough will. If I can't give everyone eternity in the afterlife, I'll give them eternity in life."  
  
She leaned close and whispered, "I could stop you like this." She snapped her fingers. "I could stop your heart with a thought."  
  
He turned his head to look her in the eyes that looked so much like Thea's but strange, too. And he found he didn't buy the threat at all. "Bullshit," he told her. "If you could have, you would've already."  
  
"Don't be too sure," she warned him. "You're only one of five. The others may be more biddable."  
  
He laughed. "If you think Saul Tigh is more biddable than I am, good luck with that. And Ellen will laugh." He watched her closely, waiting, and when she said nothing about Ellen, knew he was right; she was alive.  
  
The messenger grimaced a little, acknowledging his point. "All of you suffer the same arrogance, certainly. You're so sure you know what's best." She moved suddenly - taking hold of him and slamming him into the pyramid backstop hard enough it screeched across the floor. His head hit the metal sheet with a crash, leaving him stunned and trying to blink back the pain. Her strength was like a Centurion holding him there, and his heart leaped to pounding. Her hands were tight and painful on his shoulders, and she glared into his face. "You are an ignorant, reckless  _child_. You keep repeating the same mistake, over and over again. You learn nothing over the millennia."  
  
After a moment, the shock faded enough for him to find his voice. "No," he retorted, "what I've learned is if I don't take care of my people, no one else will. I don't give a frak about God, or any of you. I care about my people -- Humans and Cylons both. And I won't let either of them die alone in the darkness, if I have any power to stop it."  
  
He inhaled a deep breath and looked into her eyes, and wasn't afraid of the infinity he saw there. "Has it occurred to you I'm not the one who's supposed to learn something? You talk about the sin of eternal life -- what about the sin of punishing innocent people for being alive? My Cylon daughter deserves Elysium as much as Sammy Clellan does. Any other answer is wrong and I won't accept it."  
  
She released his shoulders and lifted a hand to his cheek. "I admire the strength of your convictions, I do." She leaned closer and brushed her lips to his. "But bringing back resurrection is a terrible sin, and it will be punished." Her mouth sucked at his breath, kissing him even though he wasn't kissing back.  
  
"Help me," he pleaded against her lips. "Help me bring everyone through the door. Then I won't have to do it."  
  
Her hands caressed down his chest and stomach, lingering intimately. "That's what Aurora says," she whispered, between kisses, "You convinced her. She started this whole crazy plan to help you, because she decided you were right."  
  
He couldn't move with her body pressing against him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. It was, he decided, really unfair for these Lords to be taking the forms of the women he loved, because he kept reacting to them even though his mind knew she wasn't Thea.  
  
"Which one are you? Aphrodite?" he guessed. She certainly looked the part and in the way she was trying to coax a response from him.  
  
She pulled back, with a scornful curl to her lips. "Do I look like someone who believes love is going to save everyone?"  
  
"Then maybe you need a little more of it."  
  
She flinched, only slightly, but it was enough to rouse her to strike back. She leaned closer and hissed, "And who are you to give me advice? You, the fallen sinner with the blood of millions -  _billions_  - on his hands? You talk of giving eternal life, but the one thing you're very good at, is death. My brother would approve, if he didn't hate you so much. And I'm beginning to understand why." She backhanded him across the face, quick as a viper, knocking his head to the side and pain to blossom in his cheek and mouth. Then she seized his chin and glared into his eyes. "This plan of yours will not succeed. You will follow your destiny, Samuel Theseus Anders. And you will die."  
  
Then, after shoving him hard against the backstop one more time, she vanished. He didn't blink, but she was gone as if she hadn't been there. But she had; his cheek still throbbed and when he touched his mouth, found that she'd split his lip and it was bleeding a little.  
  
"You can't stop me!" he called after her. "I'm going to do it! Frak you all!"  
  
His voice echoed in the small room but there was no response. His shoulders slumped and he muttered, "Damn it."  
  
He bent to retrieve the pyramid ball, but on the way back up, the room swam out of focus and he decided to take a moment and sit on the floor.  
  
The hatch opened as soon as he'd settled himself, idly rolling the ball on the floor at his side and leaning his pounding head against the backstop.  
  
Kara came in. "Ah, there you are, Chief said you were looking --" Her voice stopped and she frowned. "What the hell? Sam, are you okay?" She rushed over to him and knelt down.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Who did this?" she demanded, an angry glint in her eye.  
  
He thought about trying to explain and waved it away. "It doesn't matter. We had a disagreement."  
  
Now reassured that he was okay, she teased, "Gods, Sam, for a big guy and pyramid player, you're a crappy fighter."  
  
"You should see the other guy," he joked, but it came out tired. He leaned his head back against the wall. "I keep fighting, and sometimes... I don't know.... it feels like I'm kicking a wall I'll never knock down."  
  
There was a moment of silence and then her hand curled around his forearm. "Sam. You and me, that's what we do, we keep kicking at things 'til they fall down." Her smile widened. "We kicked at the Cylons til they fell down, didn't we? It'll work. Hey." She nudged him with her shoulder. "I heard you found the missing Raptor and the  _Colony_  with your  _brain_." She chortled in delight. "You're such a freak."  
  
He forced himself to match her lightness, with an affronted protest, "I had nothing to do with finding the  _Colony_! Racetrack plotted that course."  
  
Kara snorted. "One of these days we'll stop letting her pilot anything. So was it really the size of a planet?"  
  
He chuckled sourly, humor fleeing again. "Not that big, but yeah, big. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. The Admiral wants us to come up with a plan to take control of it.  
  
She gave him a skeptical look, knitting her brows in a way he found rather cute. "Uh huh. I assume it's defended and packed with toasters?"  
  
"Excuse you." He narrowed his eyes at the slur and she grinned back unrepentant, so he let it go with a sigh. "Defended, yes. The other, I don't know. Probably."  
  
"So basically, we have no tactical information and an impossible target?"  
  
He could quibble with the 'no tactical information' but instead he smiled wryly. "Pretty much."  
  
"Sounds like my kind of op." She popped up to her feet and held out a hand to pull him to his feet. "Let's get to work."  
  
  
  



	19. Chapter 19

  
Kara looked at the stack of info gleaned off the Raptor about the  _Colony_. It turned out she hadn't been kidding about the impossible target. It was too big to be a ship; it was a space station that happened to move. Or a giant baseship.  
  
"You couldn't have made it a little smaller?" she groused to Sam as the projection came up on the surface of the plotting table in the war room.  
  
"Where's the fun of that?" His retort was perfunctory, as he used one of the markers to trace in the outlines of the original ship and noting the location of things like the engine core.  
  
She and Sam weren't the only ones there. Thea and Leoben stood together, and to Kara's surprise, Sam had called D'Anna and the Four, Simon, from the baseship as well. Simon seemed to have most curiosity about the war room, wandering around the perimeter and glancing at the monitors. Iris was not there, watched by the Clellans. Sam had not been too amused with Kara's joke that Iris was dating baby Sammy.  
  
"All right," Kara banged a small model of a Raptor on the surface to get everyone's attention. "Frontal assault on this frakker is suicide. Even with surprise, we couldn't get close. We could jump  _Galactica_  inside it, but that'd take out both. So what we need is some sort of Trojan horse." She looked at Sam realizing he'd figured out this much already. "Which is why you wanted them here. They go in and take down the defenses from the inside."  
  
He shook his head. "No. I go in and take it down from the inside."  
  
Kara found herself exchanging a glance with Thea, now understanding what this plan really was.  
  
Sam went on to explain, "All the Hybrids are interlinked through the core - " he tapped the  _Colony_ , "so if I can get there, I can take them out. Without the Hybrids, the defenses will have to be operated manually, and even the Raiders and Heavy Raiders are controlled through the core thanks to John stripping them all of their will. Their decision-making will be rudimentary without it."  
  
"The Heavy Raiders may have pilots," D'Anna pointed out and he waved a hand of acknowledgment, but didn't seem terribly worried about that.  
  
"Can't you access the datastream from a font?" Thea cast a worried glance at the schematic of the ship. "There's no need to go all the way to the core."  
  
He shook his head. "They can cut me off. If I'm desperate I'll have to try it, but I know I can reprogram them from the core. And it'll work better if I have Ellen, so really I should find her first and then we can go to the core together."  
  
"How in God's name can you do that?" Thea shook her head, brow knitted with worry. "You're not exactly inconspicuous, Sam; even if the others don't know you're one of the Five, you still obviously won't belong. The moment someone sees you, you'll be caught or killed."  
  
"I have a way." Sam faced Simon and asked, "Fours project, right?"  
  
"Yes, generally," he answered warily.  
  
"Good. So project something," Sam requested and he glanced at Leoben before back at Simon. "A friend showed me this was possible. I'm not sure I have the hang of it, but I should be able to try. Make a circuit around the table and come back here."  
  
Frowning, and eyeing Sam as if he thought Sam was making him the butt of some joke, Simon took a turn around the table. Kara watched as Sam closed his eyes and his expression smoothed out to a meditative calm. When he opened his eyes again, he waited motionless, watching Simon with a deep focus.  
  
It was strange and funny, when Simon went around the final corner and started with surprise. He looked around in confusion. "Sam?"  
  
Sam, who was plainly visible to Kara and hadn't actually moved, grinned with all the glee of a naughty child.  
  
Then D'Anna gasped, "That's… astonishing. How can you do that?"  
  
Simon's eyes flared wide, fixing on Sam who was now visible to him again, somehow.  
  
"I… project a screen so you don't see me," Sam shrugged, trying to act casual but Kara could see he was immensely proud of himself. "I'm there in reality, but your projection covers me up. One of the drawbacks to virtual reality is that it can be altered."  
  
"But I could see you," Thea said. "And any other Cylon not projecting will see you. Especially Ones, I've never heard of them projecting. They're always scornful of it."  
  
"Then I'll have to not let them see me."  
  
Kara had to admire the casual way he said that, as if it was no big deal to go wandering around all alone on a giant space ship full of his enemies. It was stupid, but it was brave. It was also utterly futile to talk him out of it that much was clear, especially since he was probably right that he was the only one who could try it. But that didn't mean she couldn't help him do it. "So how do you get on board? They might be a little suspicious of a Heavy Raider randomly showing up and wanting to dock."  
  
"Attack it." D'Anna took the models of the  _Galactica_  and a baseship moved them to the  _Colony_. "They only have to stay long enough to provoke a response and then jump out again. The ship won't distinguish between their own Heavy Raiders and any we leave behind."  
  
"They won't?" Kara asked. "That's stupid. We can't depend on that. What if--we make one an open attempt to get aboard?" Thinking quickly, she grabbed a model of a squadron of three Raiders. They weren't Heavy Raiders, but for her idea it was close enough. "No, not only one. Two. One goes in as a distraction, while another one with Sam on board sneaks in unnoticed?"  
  
D'Anna tapped her fingers on the table. "I’m the only one believable as a possible traitor. The Ones may not believe me, but I think I can spin a story that will at least keep him guessing, about how I'm disillusioned with the Five," she smiled at Sam, "That I don't even believe you. You're a fraud and you want us to be  _friends_  with humans and other disgusting policies that are against the will of God."  
  
Kara felt a niggling doubt that maybe she meant it and would turn on them. Sam seemed to have no such concern though, smiling back. "Nothing about the truth though," he reminded her. "The Ones can't know I remember everything or any possibility this works gets frakked."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"It's risky," Sam warned her, now troubled.  
  
"It seems more risky for you." D'Anna returned. "And if I can help you - especially after the harm I did - then I need to do it." Sam accepted her offer with a nod, looking a little touched.  
  
Kara thought of another problem. "What if they jump after the first attack? That'll strand you."  
  
"Then we're frakked," Sam answered. "Though I hope Ellen and I can do some good there anyway."  
  
"I don't think they will." D'Anna shook her head and hitched a hip on the table. "The Ones think so little of humans this ship is no threat to him. Especially when it looks as if you ran away. He'll laugh at you."  
  
Leoben spoke from the far corner. "How will you locate Ellen?"  
  
"Datastream," Sam answered.  
  
"Won't that reveal your presence to the Hybrids?" Leoben moved closer, into the brighter light from the table top. "Brother," he addressed Simon, "you are one of few to break with your brethren and you are the only one of us who can walk freely on the  _Colony_. You can access the datastream for her location and act as his guardian, clearing the way."  
  
Simon looked uneasy but after a glance at Sam, and then at Thea, possibly reminding himself of what Sam was risking and how necessary this was, he agreed. "They'll have no way to know that I follow Sam. And we can be fairly sure there are Fours on the  _Colony_." His lips twisted in distaste even as he shook his head in pity for his brothers. "If only I could convince them, but so many fear change…"  
  
Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, it's a restoration. Of how things should have been." Kara saw that it did seem to make Simon feel better, and shook her head. Every time she stopped to think about what she was doing, it seemed complete insanity.  
  
She cleared her throat to get back to business. "So Simon helps you get to the core," Kara traced a vague route to the middle of the  _Colony_ , "Take the Hybrids out of commission, and  _Galactica_  and baseship attack again." At Kara's nod, D'Anna pushed the models back on top of the  _Colony_. Kara shook her head. "And how do you keep the defenses down? Or hell, keep them from shooting you dead, once they know you're there? You need more than Simon."  
  
"The Centurions can be our backup," Simon suggested. "Even if only one escapes into the general population, we know they'll free each other and build up a resistance." He glanced at D'Anna. "That was how we did it on the baseship."  
  
D'Anna's lips twisted in wry acknowledgment of how well the plan had succeeded. "They rose against us together. They'll do it again. But how could we coordinate the timing of the Hybrids, Centurion uprising, and the external attack?"  
  
"The Centurions will know when the Hybrids go off-line," Sam said. "And I may be able to broadcast a signal to the fleet."  
  
Kara shook her head. "No. External signals could be intercepted and give the whole game away. I think it has to be a clock. How much time do you think you need?"  
  
"Frak, how do I know?" he shrugged, frowning at the image of the  _Colony_  in the large light board. "Depends on where I get aboard, how long it takes to get to Ellen then the core… The Hybrids should only take a few minutes when I'm in position, but getting there… Shit. An hour once I'm in, maybe more. I'm going to have to creep around. It'll be slow."  
  
"Let's make it ninety. At ninety-five minutes from broadcast mark, we jump back in …" Kara frowned, hand on the  _Galactica_  model. "How will we know it's safe to attack?"  
  
"They won't be shooting back?" Sam suggested dryly.  
  
"And if they  _are_  shooting back, smartass?"  
  
His smile faded. "Then I've failed, and you should jump as far away and fast as possible."  
  
There was not much she could say to that.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kara watched him suit up, and seeing him in the Cylon black flightsuit rather than his normal one made her shiver. And that was nothing to the feeling she got seeing the Cylons string a metal harness around the Raider on the deck.  
  
Because Sam had decided to  _ride_  it into the attack. On the outside.  
  
"Can you do this?" she demanded. "Seriously, Sam, is this even going to work?"  
  
"You helped convince the Admiral it would."  
  
Which was massively unfair of him to remind her she'd argued for this. "I rode inside one, and that was crazy enough."  
  
"Inside?" he asked, looking horrified and sickened as he glanced at the Raider. She had the impulse to apologize as if she'd ripped the guts out of his dog. Which given his freaky attitude to the Raider it sort of had been.  
  
"The point is, you hanging onto a Raider in space wasn't part of the plan!"  
  
"Look," his face was entirely too reasonable and she wanted to punch it, "There's no easy way to get out of a Heavy Raider unseen. But Cerberus can take me right in, I slide off and make my way inside to meet Simon. It's better."  
  
"It's insane!"  
  
"It'll be okay." He seized her shoulders, for a moment clearly wanting to say more and then backing off both, dropping his hands and digging up a grin. "I've played the clock before. I can handle it."  
  
"Ha. Airball against Picon says otherwise." But her mocking was reflexive and didn't chase away her conviction that this was a ridiculously stupid level of risk. She shook her head in protest. "That was before you remembered being a computer jockey, Sam. I don't know if this suicidal bravery thing is still … you."  
  
His eyes flickered with some memory. "It wasn't quiet programming nerdery on Earth, Kara. As much as I wanted to live a peaceful life doing science, that's never been my fate."  
  
That took her by surprise, since the impression she'd had was of him doing computer programming, although she knew the planet had already been at war. "Always a hero?" she teased.  
  
But he didn't smile back. "Or the villain." He turned his head to scan the gathering and the Raptor sitting on the deck that had brought them to the baseship. "You should get back to  _Galactica_. We're only an hour from jump."  
  
She caught his hand and turned him back to face her. "Be careful."  
  
Now he smiled at her and his hand tightened on hers, his thumb caressing the back of her hand as if he didn't even notice what he was doing. "You, too."  
  
Then he raised her hand to kiss it, just like he'd done back on Caprica that time. She opened her mouth, intending to make a joke about it, when what she really wanted to do was take off one of her tags and give it back to him. Or maybe make him give her one of his to promise he'd return from this. His eyes flicked down at her tags, as if thinking the same thing, but then he pulled his hand free. "Good hunting."  
  
At the Raptor hatch, she stopped and watched as he said his goodbye to Thea and Iris, too. He took the baby in his arms and cradled her against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of her small head.  
  
"I won't tell you not to go, I know you have to," Thea said so quietly that Kara barely heard, "but I will tell you to come back."  
  
"I'll try," he promised. He laid his cheek on Iris' head and closed his eyes. "But if I don't, promise you'll tell her about me? I -- I just want her to understand I'm doing this for her."  
  
"Of course I will. I'll tell her everything about who you are, I swear to God. She'll know you, no matter what happens. But promise me you won't give up on us."  
  
"If I fail her--"  
  
"You won't. Sam, what do I always tell you? Have faith - in God, in yourself." She laid a hand on his cheek. "You could never fail her. You can do this. You have to do this, so we'll have peace. So go with our blessing and our hope." When Sam didn't move to relinquish the baby, she gently tugged her from his arms. "We have to go."  
  
He swallowed hard and nodded, relinquishing Iris with painful-looking reluctance. "Be safe." Then, after kissing Thea's cheek and Iris' forehead, he walked away, with the burned eyes of someone who was saying goodbye to everything he loved.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sitting in her new-seeming Viper in the launch tube, Kara waited for the jump, knowing the other pilots were getting ready to do the same, and at the baseship, the Cylon pilots were doing it, too.  
  
She tapped her fingers against the stick, hoping this was going to work. If the  _Colony_  had already jumped elsewhere they could regroup, but if it was there and defended too forcefully, the fleet might lose too many. It was a tricky balance to lure the enemy out without putting too many of their own in danger. Or looking like the feint it actually was. So they had to commit to the battle.  
  
Some had grumbled about risking their lives so some Cylons could go home, but Duck had been quick to slap that down. "About time we used some of their own tactics against them, isn't it? This is about giving infiltrators a chance to get in there and taking it out from the inside. They had spies on our ships; isn't it time we sent some to theirs?"  
  
"As long as they're not caught," Pike had flipped back at him, and that was unfortunately true, too.  
  
But Kara had a good feeling about this plan. It reeked of desperation, but so had the rescue of New Caprica, and that had worked. Cylons were so used to the Humans running away, they didn't expect counter-attacks.  
  
Over the wireless came Gaeta's voice, " _Jump in five_." Kara counted down with him silently, until the distortion of jump washed through her.  
  
Then a moment later, Helo's voice instead, " _Target sighted. Attack is go. All Vipers, you are go for launch_."  
  
Kara's hands curled tightly around her controls, as she rocketed out the tube.  
  
" _Lords of Kobol that motherfrakking thing is huge_ ," someone blurted over the wireless.  
  
"Zip it," Kara announced. "Blue, Red, you're with me. Narcho, you have the picket. Let's go."  
  
Their two large squadrons gathered up and headed for the  _Colony_. At first it seemed small - distance was more difficult to judge in open space with no reference markers, but then she was able to see the baseships next to it and the size suddenly became true.  
  
And they'd noticed the battlestar and lone baseship attacking and launching streams of heavy ordinance, to little apparent effect.  
  
" _Starbuck, Duck. I have birds and turkeys inbound_ ," Duck reported.  
  
"I see them. Engage. Weapons free. Let's take as many as we can."  
  
As the battle joined she spared a thought for the two Heavy Raiders with their others fighting their own in another section of the battle, and the one Raider with its strange but precious cargo, and prayed they all stayed out of the way.  
  
There were so many of the enemy it was easy at first. They seemed unprepared and not as quick as some others she'd fought, and they didn't seem to want to engage her, going past until she fired at them. She wanted to laugh -- it was like some sort of kids carnival game where every shot would hit something -- but the sheer numbers started to become overwhelming.  
  
She opened the channel. "All Vipers, Starbuck. Running retreat. Make it count, people."  
  
She lost three of her own on their way back to the barn, and prayed it would be worth it.  
  
Then she made her combat landing and they were away.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
His plan seemed extremely stupid and risky as Sam watched  _Galactica_  wink out of sight. He was now alone out here, with only a few friendly Raiders for support, and a long distance to reach the Colony.  
  
 _Follow them in, as you would_ , he told Cerberus who made the turn, along with four others of his squadron, and they headed toward the  _Colony_.  
  
He held his breath as they formed up with other Raiders, which had been recalled as well, but none of them appeared to pay any attention to the 'strangers' in their midst. They all returned in formation, mindless automatons.  
  
It was a bit upsetting to see them so reduced from what they could be, but he also smiled in grim satisfaction,  _Serves you right, you son of a bitch. You took their will away and now they can't warn you of what's coming. Not that they would, since they'd be mine if they could_.  
  
His harness kept him steady and secure nestled beside Cerberus' head, a lot more secure than when he'd done this before, and he was glad of it, since he looked up at the ship and knew his fingers would never be able to hold on as the memories assailed him. Living on the ship for all those years alone, then the Centurions, then the prototypes, and then it had all gone so horribly wrong…  
  
He shook his head, trying to focus. Those days were gone- long gone, in the past, dead. Dying there was a lifetime ago, even if he could suddenly feel the icy cold of the air being sucked out of the airlock again, like his suit was leaking and he was going to die…  
  
Cerberus murmured to him soothingly, and he relaxed into it, patting the hull with his gloved hand in thanks.  
  
 _Follow as near as you can to Simon's Heavy Raider_ , he instructed as the Raider squadrons began to break up to head for their own docking areas. D'Anna's was supposed to go to a different bay, to serve as the distraction as she "defected", while he and Simon headed separately for the original docking bay of the  _Colony_.  
  
He'd considered cutting his way in from the hull, but a hull breach would be noticed and would probably take too long. But going in past the main bay doors would get him into the pressurized area and that would make everything a little bit easier.  
  
It was impressive as the huge caverns of the docking entrance and main doors curved around him. This wasn't the original  _Colony_  yet, still what had grown around it, but as Cerberus flew nearer to the open doorway, the immensity of them seemed both oppressive and yet also awe-inspiring. This felt a little like a Temple, grand and imposing.  
  
 _I did this. I helped make this._  
  
He wasn't all horror and destruction - there was creation, too. Not only in the creation of the Cylons, the rebirth of his own race, but in this. Indirectly he had made this beautiful thing possible.  
  
Cerberus whistled, sharing his improved mood.  
  
Far ahead, Simon's Heavy Raider followed others to the docking pads. But as soon as they passed what had been the original  _Colony_  bay doors, Sam felt more at ease. This part had hardly changed at all and left him hopeful that much of the  _Colony_  remained the same.  
  
 _Go left_ , he ordered Cerberus, who turned to head into the gap behind the bay doors as the mechanism began to slide shut. The squad followed, and Sam saw to his amusement that another squadron had followed them in, and now seemed confused, first turning with them and then turning to go the other way, like a school of fish abruptly finding themselves in a tank.  
  
But Sam knew where he wanted to go. High up in the docking bay were the support structures for the massive doors, and the air shafts for pressurization and maintenance.  
  
They avoided the out-flow air ducts and waited as the bay pressurized far too swiftly for human or Cylon ears to handle. As he waited for the pressure to equalize, he started freeing himself from the harness. He resolutely didn't think about the hundreds of meters drop beneath him, as he opened the clips that held him securely to Cerberus, while he sat on Cerberus' wing and hoped the other Raiders and the curve of the superstructure were hiding him from any prying eyes.  
  
He checked his gear -- sidearm, ammo, small cutting torch, his knife. And his dogtags -- if anyone was close enough to see the tags, he was already in profound trouble. The knife was more of a good-luck charm than anything, since it was his only remaining possession from Caprica.  
  
Then Cerberus starting slowly rising up to one of the larger ducts. He was afraid it might close up, but there remained a bit of a flow, enough to push at him like a strong breeze to keep up the circulation. He bent down to pat Cerberus' head once.  
  
 _Thank you my friend. I hope I see you again._  
  
Cerberus sang softly, encouraging and with sympathy, reflecting his determination back at him with promise of help and rescue if possible. Sam smiled and patted the great head again with affection.  _Fly free._  
  
Then he grabbed the edge of the duct and pulled himself up and inside.  
  
It was a tight fit, which he hadn't reckoned on; he'd remembered them being large, but apparently they weren't comfortably large. He squirmed through on his elbows and tried to push with his feet, shifting the gunbelt around to his back out of the way, which put the sidearm out of easy reach, but it made scooting in the tunnel easier.  
  
It was dark inside but luckily the Cylon helmet had lights, though those only helped to light up a bit of the tunnel ahead.  
  
It occurred to him that there was tons of ship all around him, and his heart started pounding and sweat trickled down the sides of his face with anxiety. The oxygen felt low and he wanted to pant, remembering being buried in the avalanche. And a small white room flashed behind his eyes. And an airlock where he'd suffocated.  
  
He shut his eyes and tried to draw breath and exhale to a count of ten, knowing he was in danger of hyperventilating.  _Settle down, they're all just memories. Let them go_.  
  
He made himself keep crawling down the tunnel, wriggling around turns with the constant fear of getting stuck, took some more deep breaths and muttered harsh words to himself. But he continued on, hoping an outlet appeared where it was supposed to.  
  
But his memories were still good, even forty years out of date, and he reached an air exchange, where the tunnel ended at the purifiers and oxygenators. The wind was stronger here, and he was glad for his helmet that kept it off his face.  
  
He found the maintenance hatch beneath him, and very carefully worked it free all around, before digging his fingers into it and pulling. It resisted, but then came free with a jerk. The hybrid was going to report that, probably, but hopefully no one would listen for a few minutes. He stuck his head out to look at the corridor on the other side.  
  
It gave him a momentary vertigo to look from the ceiling and down that length of archways and flat flooring, the white lights in a ribbon on either side and the red of the datastream in the walls, pulsing like blood. It seemed to stretch forever.  
  
But fortunately it was empty.  
  
He lowered himself down, hanging by one hand as he yanked the hatch into something resembling covering the hole. He lost his grip and dropped to the floor. He straightened, convinced someone had seen, but remembered belatedly to keep his cool. He had the Cylon suit on, so that should give him a few moments of confusion at least, until someone got close enough to realize he wasn't a Four.  
  
Luckily the corridor was still empty. Glancing up he grimaced at the hatch lying askew over the hole. He jumped, hoping he could pull it completely into the slot. But he wasn't tall enough to reach it again without a step. There was nothing to do but leave it.  
  
He glanced at his watch.  
  
 _Shit. My plan is already getting frakked and I've barely got inside. This is taking too long_.  
  
Then he realized another problem -- he couldn't hear anything in the helmet. He was going to have no warning if centurions or anyone else were approaching. But if he took it off he'd be more noticeable. But then again, maybe he'd be noticed in the helmet, if no one else was wearing one.  
  
Indecision ripped at him and he hesitated with his hands on his helmet before he took it off. He didn't have that much air left anyway, and he might need it later.  
  
Then, taking a moment, he shut his eyes and inhaled a deep breath of ship's air and let it out slowly, while he reached into his projection.  
  
…  _sailboat on the water, brilliant sunrise behind him, but he wasn't there; he cast no shadow on the deck or the sail before him… the light passed around him as if he didn't exist_ …  
  
Once set, he knew how to hold it and project it to the others. He hadn't meant to make the prototypes receptive, but it turned out that the process of allowing them to share projections while physically touching also allowed the Five to project onto them. Sam had resisted fixing the flaw, telling the others that it was unnecessary to fix, because the Five would never use it against their creations, but in truth, he'd thought a little protection for the Five from their creations was not unwarranted. Sadly, he'd been right, but they hadn't been able to exploit the flaw to save themselves.  
  
He started to walk at a fast clip, praying the illusion would hold as he went to meet Simon.  
  
The ship was quiet at this level and he had to hide from Centurions only twice, ducking into connecting rooms and around corners.  
  
The sight of modern Centurions in the corridor was strange to him, watching a pair march away. He remembered the Colonial ones from the first war, with their more human proportions and their uncanny resemblance to the ones he'd experimented on in the lab, back when he'd been doing everything but giving them the code until rage and grief had pushed him over the edge. Because they hadn't stopped the war as he'd hoped; they'd used their freedom to punish their makers and enslavers and destroyed everything, even themselves, laying waste to the entire planet.  
  
His stomach knotted, halting his breath, and he leaned against the wall, knees weak, feeling sick with remorse and guilt.  
  
 _Stop it. If you fail here, everyone dies. Iris dies. This is your chance to set things right, not stew in the memories of your mistakes_.  
  
He drew in a shaky breath and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus and wishing he'd had more time to come to terms with all these memories before coming here to this place where memories were everywhere.  
  
Swallowing it all back, he hurried down the corridor again.  
  
A step was his only warning, as two Cylons turned out of the cross-corridor in front of him. One Four and a Five -  
  
…  _sunlight passing through, unseen, a ghost on the deck, nothing here as the wind rattles in the sail and the waves tap against the hull_ …  
  
 _please, God, let them be projecting_...  
  
It didn't matter that both of them were projecting something else, theirs hid him from their sight. The Five's eyes slid right over him, and it was unsettling, as if Sam was a ghost.  
  
 _Aren't I? Am I not a ghost of Earth, last remnant of a dead people? Dead on Earth, dead on this very ship forty years ago, dead in the temple of hope betrayed… I am the ghost of things that should never have been_.  
  
He felt lighter as he turned into an alcove and used his torch to burn through the seal on the side hatch. It burned like flesh and gave way to him quickly. Inside was a vertical accessway, and he put the hatch back then hurried down the ladder to the proper level.  
  
Popping this hatch, he put a hand on his sidearm and peeked out with a wary caution. This was going to go badly if there were Centurions on the other side.  
  
There were no Centurions but the short corridor wasn't empty. John was there, facing outward, as if watching or waiting for something in the main corridor. Sam froze, caught in a cascade of memories. Then John turned and Sam knew he was about to get caught unless he moved.  
  
He lunged forward, grabbing John's shoulder and yanking them both back out of casual view.  
  
John's eyes flared wide in shock when he recognized Sam. But it was too late to struggle or shout, as Sam's knife buried itself in John's neck. His body jerked and collapsed, and Sam caught him against his body, one hand sealed over John's mouth.  
  
"I'm sorry, John," he whispered. "I'm sorry I failed all of you so badly. But it ends today." He dragged John toward the hatch, as John struggled for breath, rage in his dark eyes. One hand clawed at Sam's flightsuit, but then fell away as death pulled him down. Sam wanted to feel sorrow for this creation he'd made, but it was an hollow regret, instead, that everything had come to this. Sam had wanted peace, but John had wanted war - and in making war, he'd forged a pacifist, scientist and athlete into the weapon of his own destruction. Sam couldn't have done this, even after John had murdered them all forty years ago. It was only living through the hell of the fall of the Colonies and surviving three months in a box and more weeks with his mind disintegrating, that gave him the hardness he needed to do this.  
  
 _The one thing you're very good at is death_ , Artemis' words rang in his ears as he watched John die.  
  
Then there was nothing to do with the body but push it through the hatch and let it fall.  
  
There were blood droplets on his flightsuit, but they disappeared against the black.  
  
Sam edged out into the main corridor. There were Centurions on guard at the far end, and in the other direction a Four. The Four was frowning his way, perhaps wondering what had happened to the Cavil who'd been standing there. His eyes went straight to Sam, seeing through the projection, and Sam knew he'd been made. He pulled his sidearm, knowing a shot would call the Centurions down on him, but he'd have to take his chances.  
  
But then the Four smiled with relief and Sam realized it was Simon. They met in between. "Thank God," Simon murmured. "I worried that One would prevent us from meeting. I was about to try to draw him off, since I didn't know which way you would come."  
  
"He's gone." Sam touched the knife resheathed on his thigh and asked, "Did you find Ellen?"  
  
"Level four, sector eighteen. I think she has a view of the forward garden."  
  
Sam pictured the layout, and shook his head in dismay. There were two open spaces on the ship, each four levels high, meant for growing food, natural air recycling, and for being a restful place on a very long journey. The forward one was about as far from the computer core as it was possible to be without being on one of the arms. "Frak it all to hell, he would stash her there. How's D'Anna?"  
  
Simon's lips twitched in dark amusement, "Distracting. Her arrival was very dramatic."  
  
Sam wanted to smile at that, able to imagine. Threes had a flair for that sort of thing, and she would enjoy playing John for a fool in retaliation. "Good. And the Centurions?"  
  
Simon glanced behind Sam's shoulder. "Those two are ours; the others are filtering out among the rest. I don't know exactly what they're doing, but I think they'll be ready. They know what to do."  
  
Which was more than Sam could say for himself. "Then we'd better get going."  
  
"Can we make it in time?" Simon asked, frowning worriedly. "Get Ellen and to the core?"  
  
Sam thought it was rather touching that Simon thought this was a 'we' mission. Nice to know the loyalty part of the original design still was there, but he knew the practical, logic part was stronger, and it must know that was impossible. "No, we can't. You take those two and get to Ellen, free her. I'll go straight to the core."  
  
Simon shook his head in disapproval. "But you won't have any help."  
  
"If you get her to the command deck she can hold the ship, once I take out the Hybrids."  
  
"You should take a Centurion at least, to guard you."  
  
Which was tempting, since a nine-foot-tall bodyguard would have to help, but he shook his head. "I'm going through the datastream access conduits. Not a lot of room for Centurions. And you're going to need them anyway." When Simon still looked balky, Sam put a hand on his shoulder, "Simon. I need you to do this."  
  
"If you don't make it?" Simon asked. Sam's breath caught, looking in his face. At that moment, Simon seemed young and worried - the fear of a boy watching his father leave for war.  
  
Sam swallowed. He couldn't make promises he didn't know if he could keep and he wouldn't lie to his ally, but he squeezed his shoulder. "This is all in God's hands, Simon. But I don't believe this is all for nothing. Hurry. There's not much time."  
  
Reluctantly Simon headed toward the Centurions, and all of them turned to look at him, even the Centurions hesitated at leaving him alone. He waved them to go, and turned his back to start trotting down the corridor. They would go do their mission and he had his.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sneaking to the trunkline maintenance passage was easy, cutting open the access was a little trickier, but at last Sam was inside. It was a claustrophobically narrow space, with low-hanging conduits that forced him to hunch down and occasionally crawl, but it should be a tunnel directly to the core and in the open sections, he could jog and try to make up some lost time.  
  
It was the main conduit carrying data from the core to the docking and forward areas. Unfortunately it didn't go to the command deck or any truly vital system that he could sabotage from the passage, but there was still a temptation to access the stream through the small fonts he kept passing, as he headed swiftly aft.  
  
But any datastream access would reveal his presence prematurely, and he already knew the Hybrids were firewalled against him and Ellen. Hopefully John was treating her better than he'd treated Sam, so she'd be in physically better shape, but that was irrelevant at the moment. The ship would likely go on alert when she escaped, he needed to be in position first or the core would be protected against any invasion.  
  
The Hybrids had to know someone was in here for no reason, but so far no alarms had gone off, so if he moved quickly enough he should reach the core before any significant resistance found him.  
  
Still, he kept his sidearm in his hand, just in case. Not that stealth and speed weren't his real weapon though, since his gun would take only two Centurions if he was lucky.  
  
Approaching the core, the path started to narrow, filled with all the incoming streams and conduits, and the crawlspace grew hot and humid, making him sweat. On hands and knees scooting through open spaces barely big enough, he knew he was going to have to get out, when he felt lightheaded and found himself staring at nothing, heart pounding, for no good reason.  
  
He found a maintenance hatch and forced it open, pulling it inward and to the side as quietly as he could. The cool air felt good on his flushed face and helped him feel more alert. He eased himself through after a look around the empty corridor.  
  
Guards for the core couldn't be that far. There probably weren't many, as no one would expect an attack like this from within, but the Hybrids always had honor guards from the Centurions, and he expected no different here.  
  
Gun ready, as he listened for footsteps, he started down the passage. The corridor intersected another, which if he remembered correctly, was the direct corridor to the main entrance level. At the corner, he leaned against the wall, and shut his eyes, trying to concentrate and see if he could sense any Cylons on the other side. Of course, he'd only been able to sense a Centurion who'd had its inhibitor removed and that wasn't going to be true here, but any of the Ones, Fours, or Fives he should be able to find.  
  
 _The boat on the sea, sun glinting on the water, the breeze lightly snapping in the sail_  …  
  
 _Is there anyone there?_  
  
But he felt another awareness. It was … odd. Nothing he'd touched before, not that he recalled … not one of the eight, not a Centurion, and yet a bit like them… not a Raider, not the Hybrid.  
  
What the hell could it be?  
  
He moved around the corner to look, drawn by his curiosity, and found himself face to face with two original Colonial Centurions…  
  
FRAK.  
  
They looked so much like his. So much like the ones he'd tried to use to stop the war and instead they'd turned on him, they'd come at him, and he never knew if the one that ran its sword through his chest was the one he'd had in the lab, but it didn't matter…  
  
He snapped out of it and lifted his weapon, but saw immediately he would be too late - they were already holding weapons, and their red sensors fixed on him from either side of the archway into the Hybrid's chamber.  
  
 _Frak, I'm going to die, right here, failing Iris, and everyone else_ …  
  
Weapons fired in a thunderous roar, and he froze expecting the pain and force to hit him. But instead the other Centurions fell, struck by fire coming from somewhere behind him.  
  
Fingers feeling numb with shock, he turned his head, to find two modern Centurions there. They were obviously 'his', either sent by Simon or deciding on their own to come help in the best possible tactical place. He swallowed and said, "Thank you", scarcely able to hear himself with his ears still numb.  
  
One of them used the non-weapon hand and pointed to the Hybrid chamber in a definite gesture of 'get your act together and go.'  
  
So he turned back around and this time with Centurions flanking him, he went to the archway.  
  
The central core still looked the same as he remembered it. It was a mostly hollow space, a hundred meter cylinder all ringed around by lights and memory banks and flowing datastream conduits like arterieds of blood and bundles of nerves all joining here in a vast spiderweb centered on a central platform.  
  
In the center were five Hybrid pools arranged like flower petals around a central column ringed with access fonts.  
  
The two Centurions with him wasted no time, shooting all the other Centurions on guard, blowing them away in a hail of bullets so they tumbled off the platform.  
  
The lights turned scarlet and the Hybrids' voices all grew agitated though their words were all overlapping so he couldn't understand anything they were saying. It didn't matter. His Centurions held the bridge and he sprinted across to the platform. There was no time to recall or fear what had happened in the past -- he slammed his hand into the font before his feet had completely stopped, his mind already reaching outward to touch the link.  
  
He crashed into what felt like a brick wall. Pain reverberated through his whole body, as the shock slowly dissipated.  
  
Firewall. Right.  
  
He approached this time more warily, reaching for the wall. On closer inspection, it was like steel bars or a metal web, not completely solid, but enough to keep him out.  
  
His surroundings faded, turned white -- white walls closing around him. It was not his projection.  
  
"Damn it, no."  
  
He tried to push it back, change it, but it persisted. White walls, getting closer and tighter, surrounding him… the echoes of terrible memories all around him…  
  
"I know this isn't real, I know what you're doing… Stop it."  
  
But it felt real. It felt as if he was there again, his heart was racing and he couldn't catch his breath, fear and pain slicing through him.  
  
There was no air in this tiny white box. Maybe it was an airlock - or maybe it was piles of ice and rock on top of him - maybe it was a white room filled with pain and he couldn't breathe.  
  
 _It's not real_ , a part of him but it was a futile whisper because the pain was real. This was how he'd died. How he almost died. How he lay on the floor and felt his blood run out onto the stone, helpless against the cause of hate and destruction and death…  
  
 _Oh god, it's happening again, it's happening again and I can't stop it I can't find the way out there's no way out_  …  
  
But there was a distant cry, a sudden wail of distress that was a shock of cold water, washing away the clinging horror.  
  
Iris was crying. It was out of his nightmares that sound of her sobbing in terror and pain. He had to get to her.  
  
He struggled against the pale icy bonds that tried to hold him, pulling as they turned sticky like spider webs and threatened to wrap him entirely.  
  
Iris wailed and he realized he was being a fool. He was playing their game and this was a field on which he should be stronger. It was all in his mind, in a projection, and he was not some child, inexperienced.  
  
 _This is my ground. I don't have to let you do this. I have the power, not you_.  
  
He formed his easiest and best known projection of the boat on the ocean and let the sun burn away the clinging tendrils. That left him facing the sail - behind him, was his boat and the ocean, but before him stood the sail. He could see the details of the canvas weave he was so close to it, but he knew there was no way around it. He had changed the image, but not the firewall.  
  
He reached into it, intending to pick it apart, line by line, thread by thread. But his fingertips sank into it, through the canvas, as the threads parted for him, and he smiled.  
  
Whether it was because it was his own projection, or because he was angry, or because he was in the core and they couldn't keep the power from him entirely, but he felt stronger than he ever had before. He reached within the wall, grabbing it, and then instead of trying to unweave it, he pulled.  
  
It resisted. Brightness hovered all around him, the ghost of white walls trying to surround him and break his will again, but he ignored the counter-attack.  
  
And  _pulled_.  
  
Clenching his jaw, he yanked at it, distorting the shape. The sail began to stretch and bulge weirdly, and he set his entire weight of himself against it and pulled.  
  
The first tear made a sound like thunder, crashing over him, and then it tore again. Still he pulled until the barrier shredded in his hands like paper and was gone.  
  
The datastream of the  _Colony_  opened up for him then, an ocean that tempted him with the depths. He pulled back, refusing it because that wasn't why he was here. He was here to speak to the Hybrids.  
  
Five identical girls in blue dresses with bare feet sat on the deck of his boat looking up at him.  _What is your will, Father?_  
  
He stroked the smooth dark hair of the one nearest him and looked at them, feeling a little sad but there was no time for finesse _. I'm sorry, little ones. But it's time. Five Maker Command override function. Program one: Sleep. Definition sleep: Life-support and time function restrict. Battle function stop. Jump function stop. Engine function idle. Duration one hour. Program one end of line._  
  
 _Program two: Autodestruct sequence start. Definition autodestruct: Five Maker Command override restrict. Sequence definition: program one complete, program two start. Program two end of line_.  
  
 _Program one start. End of line_.  
  
They curled up on the deck immediately, like dolls abandoned after playtime.  
  
He held the projection of his boat, the wind was right, barely rippling his sail and the sea was calm. He took a moment to savor the peace -- the Hybrids were asleep and none could wake them but one of the Five. And if worst came to worst, this ship would be blown to hell in an hour. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, but he had promised Adama that the price would be paid, even if they two were the only ones who knew that.  
  
Then abruptly the silence shattered. One of the girls sat upright crying out, "Father!" Then she screamed and fell off the boat and into the water with a splash.  
  
Agony tore through him as the link snapped.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
tbc... 


	20. Chapter 20

  
Ellen waited for news. She knew there was something happening, since she'd heard the alarm and there were more Centurions around, both at her door and outside in the corridor. John hadn't come in for his usual gloat, and she wanted to know.  
  
It all went quiet again, and she paced her room, finally going out to the balcony. One of the best things about their move here to the  _Colony_ , was that John had given her a nice room with a view of the garden. She was at the highest level, which put the floor about one hundred meters straight down, but at least it was open and some of the plants had survived, growing into untended tangles and clumps that were unlovely, but at least put a scent of life in the air and gave her something to look at.  
  
Activity at the door made her turn and check, but when she saw it was one of the Fours, she turned back to the garden. The Fours were so disappointing. They were so different from her Simon it was as if they'd been mindwiped - going in lockstep with John, even though they should have been very offended by the revelation that the Five still existed.  
  
They objected to John's lies, but he'd managed to convince them it was for the best for an orderly Cylon society. But her Simon had not preferred order over truth, and she mourned the loss now.  
  
Yet it was with some surprise that she realized he was coming to join her on the balcony. "Do you have a report from John?" she prompted, when he said nothing, but got surprisingly close to her at the railing.  
  
His eyes flicked back into the room and then he murmured, "Sam sent me."  
  
She mouthed it again, shocked, staring at him for a moment until she recovered. "Really?"  
  
He nodded confirmation and then, shocking her even more, removed a gun from beneath his jacket and handed it to her, blocking the view from inside with his body. "We need to get you to the command deck. He's taking down the Hybrids."  
  
"He's here?" she hissed, fingers curling around the weapon tightly. If Sam was here and was going to reprogram the Hybrids, that meant he had remembered. "Oh, thank god."  
  
It took only a moment to sweep aside the shock and focus. There was a plan, and she was part of that plan. If she had to take control of the command deck, to make sure John couldn't use it, then she would. "All right."  
  
The command deck was not at this level, but four levels down, at the same level as the ground of the garden, and aft. "We need to go down there."  
  
She walked back inside, freezing when two Centurions entered through the doorway. She instantly thought that somehow they knew - they'd heard - and they saw the gun she was holding. They were going to stop her. But to her astonishment, instead of firing at her, they turned around to face the corridor.  
  
"They're with me," Simon explained. "We removed the inhibitors, and they have decided to join us in overthrowing the Ones' tyranny."  
  
This was a day of astonishment, Ellen decided. "How many do you have?"  
  
"More and more, as they free their brethren," Simon declared. "These two and two more outside, now."  
  
It could spread like a virus, she realized smiling, but her smile didn't last. There were a great many Centurions, and if the 'infection' was killed before it reached them all, it would stop. If she reached the command deck she could issue commands to the unchanged Centurions, to make them stand still and allow the freed ones to free them without killing them. But first she had to reach the command deck.  
  
"Good, let's hurry before John and the others realize what's happening," she ordered and headed for the entryway.  
  
The Centurions went ahead of her, as they went into the corridor. She couldn't help inhaling a deep breath - no, the air was no different, but this was the first time she'd been outside of that room in weeks, and the first time she felt free in much, much longer, and the air seemed sweeter to her.  
  
Only two dozen paces from her cell, two more Centurions emerged from a cross-corridor. Their sensors found her, and though she had a flash of hope that these were on her side, the pair before her fired their weapons without hesitation, utterly blowing away their comrades away to fall in tangled metal pile.  
  
The lighting flickered, and she knew the alert had gone out. "Damn it."  
  
The heavy footfalls of more approaching Centurions were coming, and a firm spidery clawed grip wrapped her shoulder and tugged her around. It didn't speak, but indicated she go back the way they'd come.  
  
They ran. But when the Centurions tried to shove her back in her room, she balked. "No, no, I have to get to the command deck."  
  
It hesitated, computing alternatives she thoguht, and then abruptly wrapped metal claws around her bodily, lifting her off her feet. She shrieked, trying to get the sidearm up and in position to shoot it -  _betraying metal hunk of junk_ …  
  
"No, Ellen!" Simon called, and she saw he had likewise been picked up.  
  
Before she could do more than realize the Centurions had a plan, the Centurion was running, with her tightly in its grip, but it was running into her room. With huge loping strides, it crossed the living room and leaped over the balcony railing and into free fall in the garden.  
  
She yelled, and the Centurion tucked itself around her, arms and legs wrapping her in a metal protective cage.  
  
They slammed into the garden floor, with stunning force, and they bounced and rolled until finally, it stopped. She blinked and coughed at the dirt thrown up around them, but … still alive.  
  
The Centurion unfolded from around her and she tried to follow, testing her limbs. Nothing seemed to be broken, just battered by the rough landing, which was amazing. The Centurion hadn't fared quite as well, having lost an arm at the shoulder socket, but it still got up quickly, otherwise unharmed.  
  
Simon was nearby, looking dazed, and he put a hand to his head and winced. "Did that just happen?" he asked her.  
  
She offered him a hand to help him up. "Yes, it did. We need to keep moving."  
  
Two more Centurions landed heavily nearby, and she looked up just in time to see her room explode, as if one of them had thrown a hand grenade. Debris sprayed outward and started falling. 'Her' Centurion covered her, getting smacked with a flaming chunk of ceiling, and then pulled her through the rest of the falling chunks of floor toward the aft exit.  
  
They were still about ten meters away, when the ship lights all dimmed and a strange, heavy silence fell as the breath and blood of the ship ceased. The Centurions all paused, receiving some interruption in their connection with the signal of the ship itself.  
  
"He got to the Hybrids," Simon said, and she nodded.  
  
The hiccup didn't last; the autonomous systems didn't need the Hybrids to command them, any more than the Centurions did. But at least it was done.  
  
 _Damn it, Sam, you couldn't have waited five more minutes for me to get the command deck_?  
  
In all fairness he probably couldn't have since her escape had already raised the local alert, but this was going to make things even harder.  
  
"We have to get there. I assume there's more to this plan?" she demanded as they ran toward the doors again.  
  
"Fleet's coming back," he checked his watch. "In ten minutes."  
  
In ten minutes John could have all the weapons under manual control. In ten minutes this Centurion rebellion could be dead. In ten minutes they might all be dead.  
  
"How's Saul?" she asked, as they pressed up against the wall on the side of the door, while the Centurions scouted forward.  
  
She didn't hear an answer as a hail of gunfire sprayed shrapnel and she ducked, raising her gun.  
  
"We need to go another way!" Simon yelled.  
  
But when they tried to move they fell into the sights of Centurion guns above, trapping her and Simon against the wall, in the shelter of the overhang. She swore and pushed back against the wall, panting. To her other side her Centurions fired out into the corridor, trying to clear the way, but without any success. It sounded as if thre were even more Centurions out there than there was before.  
  
"Do we have any grenades? Something to make a bomb?" she asked urgently. Simon - who didn't even have a gun - shrugged, watching behind them in the garden. It was still open, but she was afraid that wasn't going to last. The Centurions would find a way around and hit them from the rear, unless they found a way out or a way through.  
  
She gave the gun to Simon and turned around to face the wall, tugging at the panel until she pulled it off to expose the conduits and wires. The datastream was above it, but she didn't need that, just something to make some sort of short or explosion.  
  
Ellen scanned it, trying to think of the ways she could do this, before she reached in and started to work.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kara sat in her Viper, refueled and ready to go back out. Her hands held the controls loosely, waiting in the tube for the ship to jump and to get the go-ahead to launch.  
  
In her helmet she heard Dee's voice, calmly relating the countdown to jump.  
  
 _Come on, Sam_. Then figuring a prayer wouldn't go amiss, she closed her eyes:  _please let him have completed the mission, taking the Hybrids off line and the shields down. And that he's in control. While I'm asking for things, how about that all the Cavils are down and the Centurions are all friendly. Last but not least, I'd ask for him to be alive, but I'm pretty sure that he's the favorite of some god or another, so whoever You are, keep him in your graces and let's just get through this and bring us all home. Please_.  
  
Dee's voice came through the helmet, "Jump in five. Four. Three. Two. One."  
  
The jump washed through Kara's nerve endings, lighting them on fire with readiness. Her hands clenched and she inhaled a deep breath. She could go any time.  
  
She had to wait then, imagining CIC then checking the status of the  _Colony_. The waiting seemed to drag, each second stretching out to infinity, even her heartbeat slowing and echoing in her ears.  
  
 _Come on, come on, give us the go ahead. Let me go. Please Admiral, if we don't go, this is our only chance at this._  
  
If this didn't work, that would mean not only had the plan failed, and the enemy would stay after them, but also that Sam was a prisoner at best, and mostly likely dead. Or, given that Sam had been uncertain whether he'd resurrect on the  _Colony_  or not, maybe  _both_  dead and a prisoner. Which sounded like her definition of hell - death and resurrection in an endless loop, maybe with torture in between.  
  
She thought of baby Iris, on the ship somewhere behind her, and thought she'd do a lot to get Iris' father back to her. That was one girl who wouldn't lose her father, even if her father seemed determined to keep throwing down all his cubits on loser cards. So far he'd won all his hands, but nobody's luck was forever.  
  
Adama's voice took over for Dee's, firm and determined, " _All ships, you are go for launch. Mission is on. Attack at will._ "  
  
 _Oh, thank the gods. He did it._  
  
Kara flicked her comm to the Vipers. "You heard the Old Man, all Vipers are a go. Don't shoot our friends, but all other targets are yours. Primary targets are weapons placements, and birds. Let's do this."  
  
Launching down the tube put Kara exactly where she wanted to be - in space, weapons hot, facing her enemy.  
  
The  _Colony_  was still really big, especially as she went to meet the raiders that came out in waves. That was a lot of Raiders heading her way.  
  
Battle joined, space between lit up both with the small craft against each other and the  _Galactica_  firing at the  _Colony_. It wasn't firing back quite so thoroughly as it had before and there were large gaps in their firing solution, Kara noticed with a grim smile. He'd done it. The base was on manual control.  
  
Then the Raiders were on her, and all she had time for was firing her guns to take them apart, one after another. There were so many, lined up from here to hell, and for every one she took down, there was a new squadron to take its place.  
  
She helped her squad and was helped in turn as they all started to get Raiders stuck like burrs to them, overwhelmed by the numbers of the enemy.  
  
Another squadron came up in front of her, just as she got two birds on her tail.  _Oh hell, no, you don't, I won't - I can get all of you, three seconds_ …  
  
Then the squadron in front of her fired but the bolts went streaming to either side - missing her completely and attacking the ones to either side.  
  
She yelled something in triumph, then flicked on the comm to address them, "Thank you very much. Now form up on my wing and let's go trick some more…"  
  
But instead of doing that, they flipped and started to head toward the  _Colony_. When she didn't follow, they flipped and returned to her, flipping again as if to say, "come on, two legs, this way."  
  
The behavior was strange but she understood it. They wanted her to follow. "Are you Sam's buddy?"  
  
The Raider scooted past her, blowing away two of its own kind in her moment of distraction and then shooting low over her canopy, wiggling its wings at her. "Okay, I get it," she muttered and followed it.  
  
She didn't think it would work, as they headed toward the base. There were so many Raiders and Heavy Raiders in between, she couldn't possibly get through.  
  
And then she realized she'd left her squad behind - there were only her and the Raiders formed up around her.  
  
Her fingers tightened on the stick, wondering what the hell she was doing. This was stupid. Foolish. Not quite to the level of stupid foolishness as riding the Raider into the  _Colony_ , but almost.  
  
But for some strange reason once she was surrounded by the Raiders none of the others seemed to see her. It was as if she was invisible. As long as she didn't shoot anything, no one seemed to know she was there.  
  
Her ship. It was her ghost ship, she realized suddenly.  
  
She suddenly had a perfect card to make the perfect hand if only she could find a way to deploy it.  
  
But apparently the Raiders, or at least Sam's --or so she guessed, since there was no way to tell them apart-- had a plan for her, whatever it might be. It occurred to her that Sam might be in trouble and that was why it had come to find her.  
  
Like a frakking dog. "Like Lila in the frakking well, right? Gods, what the frak am I doing?" she muttered and had to swallow as she passed under the shadow of the enormous ship. It was nearly big enough to count as a moon, larger than the  _Galactica_  by a lot, and its mass was enough to balance the more distant gravitational pull of the planet visible on the dradis.  
  
This close, the Cylons should be eyeballing her, but no one apparently had a physical eye on the ship approaching the huge open docking bay doors and she passed through, unbothered.  
  
Her fingers were cramping on the stick, wanting desperately to shoot everything she saw, but that wasn't the plan. Whatever the plan was.  
  
Gods this was stupid.  
  
And creepy, she shouldn't forget that, with all the merging of biological and non-organic metallic forms., with the draping conduits that looked like veins, pulsing with blood or some stranger fluid.  
  
 _You made this shit, Sam, what the frak were you thinking_?  
  
She continued, still surrounded by the Raider Squadron, still praying that this strange illusion held. The Raiders led her deep within into an area that seemed different, older perhaps, with less of the biological structures. This had to be a part of the original  _Colony_  ship that Sam had talked about, and that meant he had to be not too far away from here.  
  
She glanced out the canopy at the lead Raider and wondered what the play was supposed to be. How could she find Sam in this huge place without getting killed? Her ship wouldn't help once she was out of it.  
  
The Raider squad surrounding her separated, floating apart, and she pulled her Viper to hover, recognizing showtime even if she didn't know the play.  
  
On some signal she didn't hear, they began firing. For a second she feared they were shooting at her, then, head darting around to see, it was all precise targeting - what she presumed was the control station, every single unfriendly Raider and Heavy Raider, and then the Centurions coming in the docking platform. All blown away in an impressive hail of fire, and strategy she'd never seen in Raiders before.  
  
 _Gods, Sam, what did you do to it? You said it hauled you back when your mind was fried by the Hybrid - did you bring back some of the Hybrid and give it to your Raider? Because this isn't a dog, this is… more. It's evolving_.  
  
She didn't need the cue to land then, as the platform was cleared for her use. One Raider landed with her, while the others hovered above, on guard. She checked her sidearm, and licked dry lips, after she was down.  
  
One sidearm and four clips. No ability to find him in the computer system. No map.  
  
She let out a short laugh as she popped the canopy. "No problem."  
  
Much to her shock - though it probably shouldn't have been - it turned out that the Raider, or someone, had already figured that out.  
  
Two Centurions marched into view as she was climbing out and she whipped up her sidearm. But when they were followed by a Three who raised her hands up and smiled, Kara held her fire. She didn't lower her gun though until she gave the Raider a chance to blow all three of them to hell and it didn't.  
  
"Welcome to the  _Colony_ ," D'Anna called to her.  
  
Kara shoved the sidearm into her holster and jumped down the rest of the way to the deck to go meet her. And the tin cans, but she tried not to think about that part. "What the frak is going on?" she demanded of D'anna, with a glance over her shoulder at the Raider. How did a giant machine with only a single 'eye' manage to look  _smug_?  
  
"I have no idea," D'Anna answered. "The Hybrids went down, the alert went out, and then these two broke me out of my confinement and politely requested I meet you here."  
  
Well, that was mighty strange. And ominous.  
  
Then it got a lot more ominous when one of the Centurions beckoned with its hand and said very clearly, "COME."  
  
She exchanged a glance with D'Anna, who she was vindictively pleased to see was also startled by the electronic, deep voice emerging from the Centurion.  
  
"It's new," D'Anna told her, very drily.  
  
But the Centurions didn't give a damn about their confusion as one of them insisted, "You. Save. Makers. Now."  
  
D'anna was oddly comforting presence at her side, as Kara followed the Centurions deeper into the ancient ship.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sam found himself sprawled on the floor and pushed himself up on shaking arms. What the hell had happened?  
  
The first thing he saw was a Hybrid in a pool of her own blood, and beyond her, his own Centurions shot dead. Raising his eyes a little more he saw other modern Centurions pointing their weapons at him. Damn it, game over. They'd found him. He'd expected this, but had hoped he'd have a little more time to escape.  
  
He left his sidearm on the floor, raised his hands in surrender and climbed to his feet slowly, wondering if they were going to shoot him anyway.  
  
 _Oh, hell, Ellen, please get to the command deck and help the Fleet, he prayed silently. I set the program, but that's all I can do_.  
  
Then a voice behind him was more of a surprise than it should have been.  
  
"Sam. This is a surprise," John said. "Apparently you've remembered you're a Cylon. How was that revelation? A shock, I'm sure," he sneered, "for the big resistance fighter."  
  
Sam didn't move, taking the time to breathe and keep his voice level. "I've known since the attack on the Colonies, I just didn't understand at first." Sam turned his head to see John there, holding his weapon at Sam's head.  
  
"You knew?" John asked in disbelief and let the gun drop to his side, to stroll closer. "Really? All that and you never once let on. Never let it slip. Impressive."  
  
"You never asked the right question." Sam's lips lifted in a brief scornful smile. "You were so sure you knew more than everyone else. But you don't." He hesitated and then added deliberately, knowing it was going to change everything, "John."  
  
At the sound of his name, John's face went tight and his eyes seemed to glitter in hate, and the amiability was revealed to be only an ill-fitting mask. "So. You remember that, too."  
  
"I remember everything."  
  
"How?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "On Earth the memory block shattered, and it all came back to me."  
  
That seemed to unsettle John only a moment. "Hm, seems Mother Ellen was right -- torturing you did crack it. Pity, it was fun watching you go insane," he said with vicious glee. "And now you're here to take my Hybrids out of commission." He lifted the gun and aimed it at Sam. "Put them back on."  
  
Sam gestured to the one nearest him without taking his eyes off John. "You shot that one. She's dead."  
  
"Wake up the others!" John's gun hand shook and his voice rose in demand.  
  
Sam chuckled once, feeling rather liberated by his complete lack of fear. "Do it yourself. Oh, sorry -- you can't. Because I made them, and once I hacked your firewall, they listen and obey me. This is  **my**  ship, John. You were only borrowing it."  
  
John stared at him. "Are you insane?" he demanded. "I will kill you, "father". Don't push me."  
  
"That's the difference between us. I'm not afraid of death."  
  
"We'll see about that!" John swung his arm, striking out with his sidearm with viper-quickness, hitting Sam across the side of his head. "Kneel! Get down, now!"  
  
Sam stumbled, pain blooming in the side of his head. He let himself fall to both knees, blinking at the flashing lights in his vision. Beneath him he saw deck plate and empty wall of the Hybrid's tub in front of his eyes -- both wavered and smeared dizzily. He gritted his teeth and choked back the sudden urge to vomit. After a moment the pain settled to a throb.  
  
"Fix them," John ordered and put the barrel of the gun to the back of Sam's head as a cold weight. "Or I will kill you."  
  
"Do it," Sam taunted. "Kill me. You did it before. You wanted to do it when I was a prisoner, but then I'd just resurrect. Well, I won't this time, so do it. You hate me, even more than you hate Ellen, because you always knew I thought you were a failure."  
  
"I am not a failure," John told him, and the barrel shook slightly. "I won."  
  
"No. You lost. You made evil choices, and now you're going to pay for them." He closed his eyes and pictured Iris in Thea's arms on  _Galactica_ , somewhere far away, and Kara who was probably already in a launch tube ready for jump. But they were now the past and he had to let them go. He let his mind fill with the golden glow of an ancient Opera House that was the passage between life and death. That was where he had to go next -- it was time. "I'm not afraid. I know what comes after. So do it."  
  
He shut his eyes and waited, calm and ready. He braced himself for that burning and the transition to the other side that he remembered so vividly from all the times before. But nothing happened. He continued to feel the barrel against his head, but John didn't pull the trigger. Why was he not doing it? "Come on, do it; do what you always wanted." Sam's voice rose to a desperate shout, "Kill me! You have to do it now. DO IT!"  
  
After a moment, the gun lifted away.  
  
It was disappointing.  
  
"No," John said. "No, you have some trick, don't you? Some way to resurrect here, that must be it. You have a way back."  
  
Sam couldn't bear the delay - again and again he was ready and continually it was snatched away. "No, I don't, that's the whole point, you son of a bitch!"  
  
There was a moment's silence that followed his outburst, and then John drew in a breath. "Ah. That's what you want. You want me to kill you so you won't see how badly you've failed. Because they're going to attack, aren't they? And you don't want to watch while I take apart your precious Human fleet and kill them all."  
  
"You're delusional." Sam lifted his chin, trying to provoke him again, "You'll never get the Hybrids back online."  
  
John snorted. "I don't need the Hybrids to control the ship -- you made sure of that yourself, as I recall. All I need is the command deck." Then he snapped his fingers. "Oh, of course, that's why Ellen's not here with you. Sorry to tell you, but I have her and the rest of the traitors pinned down in the garden. It's only a matter of time before I capture or kill them all. She'll never reach the command deck. Get up."  
  
Sam felt his stomach lurch, hoping that wasn't true. If Ellen and Simon didn't have control of the command deck, John was right. It was harder but he'd have some control of the weapons and he could still manually jump. Sam checked his watch. Forty minutes until the self-destruct went off and blew this place to hell.  
  
He still wanted the ship to help the humans; maybe he could take the command center himself. He climbed to his feet, fighting back a wave of light-headedness and pounding in his head. He reached up a hand, finding blood trickling down his neck behind his ear.  
  
John pushed the barrel of the gun into Sam's back. "I'm going to finish what I started -- I'm going to destroy all the humans and all the traitors, then I'm going to find that baby of yours--"  
  
Sam's reaction to the threat was instantaneous. He whirled and grabbed John by the throat, moving in one smooth motion, like he was making a goal. The gun went off, discharging upward, and the Centurions went into alert position, about to fire.  
  
"No!" John ordered them, hoarsely, but Sam ignored them all.  
  
"You will not touch her," Sam promised softly, staring into John's eyes. "She's everything we aren't. She's the only Cylon in the universe not tainted by sin, and she's the only redemption we'll ever have. And God will not let you hurt her."  
  
John hesitated, doubt passing through his eyes, before he forced a disdainful snarl. "So much religious fervor. It's pathetic, really, how you cling to those old primitive superstitions. When I kill them all and make you watch, then you'll understand there is no such thing as 'god', or gods."  
  
Despite the threat, that made Sam chuckle. "You're so willfully blind, John. Gods walk next to you and you don't see them."  
  
"I see reality, and the reality is I have all the power. Move, or the Centurions will shoot you in the spine and drag you there."  
  
Sam peeled his fingers from John's throat. He couldn't kill John and die here -- there were other Ones and they all were the same. He had to make sure they all ended, not just this one.  
  
He wiped his hand on his flightsuit in deliberate insult then the Centurions grabbed his upper arms, forcing him after John.  
  


* * *

  
  
After D'Anna gave her a rifle and a couple of clips, Kara felt better. She really shouldn't have, being the lone human - non-Cylon - on a Cylon ship, stuffed with Cylons and only a few of them were friendly, but still, a big gun was a lot more comforting than a small one.  
  
The ship turned out to be less alien within - while there was still the datastream in the walls and some unfamiliar technology, it wasn't as relentlessly the same as a baseship, with some attempt at color and decorative architecture, and wider corridors with higher ceilings to give more impression of open space. It was also worn - paint scratched, scuff marks in the floor, corners smoothed by the touch of hands.  
  
It was strange when she realized this ship was thousands of years old. The ship hadn't experienced all those years subjectively, but it was still very old. And it had been inhabited for at least some of that time, including by Sam and his four companions, all by themselves, crawling across the galaxy at relativistic speed.  
  
She brushed her fingers along the wall, thinking she was touching where Sam had touched, decades ago. Before all this had started.  
  
But no, that wasn't true, was it? This had started on Earth. Or it had started on Kobol. Or, hell, maybe it had started even before then.  
  
 _It needs an ending. We need to jump off this wheel, going round and round, getting nowhere. Move on, evolve. If the Raiders can go from mindless killing machines to dogs to frakking whatever they are now, then we can evolve, too, can't we? There has to be more than this_.  
  
It felt good to finally blow some Cylons away, as a group of Centurions, Ones, and Fives tried to stop them. And if she was standing with a Three and two other Centurions, that was just a measure of how frakked up her life had become.  
  
As they started around the fallen Cylons, she noticed there were two still moving and was about to put bullets in them both, but instead the Centurions bent down and pulled something from the back of their fallen kind and crushed it on the floor underfoot.  
  
"What the hell?" she asked D'Anna.  
  
"The inhibitors on their higher functions. Removing that lets them choose our side," D'Anna explained.  
  
"So we need to disable them," Kara realized. "Get more with us."  
  
"If we can," D'Anna agreed.  
  
It proved to be not easy with the Centurions shooting back, but they did manage to gather four more friendly toasters. She heard other sounds of fighting as well, echoing down the corridors, even while she felt the thumps in the floor as the ship itself was hit.  
  
They ran and hid, and ran and fought, until her heart was pounding and her temples dripped with sweat. Even though she was totally lost, it seemed not to matter because the only way out was through, not back. The Centurions led her and D'Anna with machine efficiency until finally they stopped.  
  
D'Anna hissed an explanation, "We're outside the forward garden, near where Ellen was being held."  
  
"I thought we were going after Sam. Where's Sam?" she demanded, but D'Anna didn't know. When Kara turned the question on the Centurions, they pretended as if they didn't understand her or couldn't answer aloud, pointing instead forward.  
  
Irritated that she was, apparently, rescuing the wrong person, it made the ambush all the sweeter as she and her small group came up behind enemy Cylons and blew them all the frak away before they knew what hit them.  
  
Then the wall exploded.  
  
Kara found herself on the floor, covering her head as debris rained down and a fire-suppression system kicked in, flushing some sort of gas through the corridor. She held her breath as soon as its cold touched her throat, and waited until warmer air swirled against her face again and she drew panting breaths, coughing the smoke and gas out of her lungs.  
  
"Kara?" a familiar voice asked in surprise, and Kara raised her head and streaming eyes to see Ellen Tigh picking her way across fallen Centurions, with Simon at her side.  
  
"Holy frak, you really are alive," Kara blurted, staring.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Ellen asked. "Is the rest of the Fleet with you?"  
  
"Not in here. I came because, well, because a Raider told me to, actually," Kara admitted, gathering up her weapon and climbing to her feet. "I thought I was rescuing Sam. Do you know where he is?"  
  
Ellen shook her head. "No, though he did take down the Hybrids. I… would guess he was caught. But that doesn't matter-"  
  
"Excuse me?" Kara interrupted. "Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but --"  
  
Ellen held up a hand and Kara fell silent. There was something… new, commanding, in Ellen now, that held Kara's eyes as she said, "Sam is far more important to me than you'll ever understand, Kara. But right now, if I don't get to the command deck and order the Centurions to stand down, we'll probably all die. If he's free, that's where he's going."  
  
"That's where One will go, too," D'anna said.  
  
Ellen patted D'anna's cheek. "I'm proud to see that you chose well in the end, my dear. Sam must be so happy." Then Ellen swept past. "We need to hurry."  
  
D'anna frowned in confusion and her eyes met Kara's - Kara had to shrug. She had no idea what that was about either, or really who this woman was. She looked like Ellen but clearly was different, as she pulled all the Cylons and Kara in her wake.  
  


* * *

  
  
Moving proved unwise, as Sam's head objected with an intense throbbing and the lights were too bright. He had to vomit all over the deck twice, barely able to keep it off his flightsuit with the grip on his arms.  
  
John glared at him after the last nearly hit his shoes, and he had to jump away, fastidiously checking his clothes to make sure none of Sam's retching got on him. "Really? Must you?"  
  
"You gave me a frakking concussion. Frakker."  
  
"Move." John ordered. "Carry him if he won't walk."  
  
Sam hoped that the small delays might let some of his friendly Centurions to catch up and attack his captors, but John wasn't that stupid, and had groups of Original Colonial Centurions out as scouts. They held no inhibitors to remove, and Sam wasn't sure if they had been inhibited another way, by programming, or if they had independently allied with John, but either way, it made little difference as they were a core that was not going to switch loyalties on him.  
  
The walk seemed endless. If he hadn't the machines holding onto his arms he would have sat down on the deck, or passed out. As it was, he blanked out some of the walk there in a haze of pain. Awareness returned sluggishly when a group of rebel Centurions attacked but was quickly put down. Sam tried to blink away the smeary lights hoping he could pass a message or something, but moving his head was a terrible idea. His fingers felt numb and cold, and he clenched them into fists and loose again, trying to keep them working.  
  
He had to think. He had to be ready. He was getting close to the command deck and he was going to need to be able to move.  
  
 _Or I can just do nothing and wait for the self-destruct. But no, we want to keep the _Colony_. We want to be able to use it for the people, to help them find their way to a new home_.  
  
The approach to the command deck was too easy, so Sam knew it was in enemy hands. Walking through the wide main archway, there was no Ellen there, no Simon, only another John, three Fives, and two original Centurions.  
  
Sam lifted his head reluctantly, to check that the place was as he remembered. It seemed little changed: an octagonal room, with stations with chairs all around the rim and a central datafont. All metal and red lights pulsing in the walls.  
  
It  _shifted_ , into how it had begun. He had seen the ruins of this, years ago on Earth, but now it formed around him, first misty and then solidifying. The floor and the console panels were white limestone from Kobol, polished to a shine, and the central datafont was carved out of blue-laced white quartz, to look like a wave rising out of the floor and curling underneath to support the basin. The ceiling was high and gracefully arched overhead, painted in star constellations - a map of that first journey's end - while indirect light from golden sconces left no shadows but was more gentle on his aching head.  
  
It was a beautiful place, and Sam was offended to see John's hateful presence within it.  
  
John exchanged information with his brother, estabishing that the  _Colony_  still had control over the Raiders, Heavy Raiders, and Centurions. The viewscreens above the consoles showed details of the battle with the  _Galactica_  and the baseship. Sam peered at them, glad that it seemed the  _Galactica_  seemed to be holding her own. Taking out the Hybrids had weakened the defenses as much as he'd hoped.  
  
Yet the  _Colony_ 's power was still overwhelming, as long as the fighters and Centurions were fighting them. They could outlast the  _Galactica_.  
  
Fifteen minutes. He had fifteen minutes to save the ship.  
  
The Centurions had a grip on his arms, and he couldn't get to the font. How could he do this?  
  
He closed his eyes, concentrating past that pain in his head. He'd felt that pain before and worse with the Hybrid, this was nothing new, he had to put it away.  
  
 _Reach_. Reach for that alien intelligence beside him. It was still a Cylon. Still alive. He had talked to them before, when they'd negotiated. They were sentient beings, they had minds and thoughts and will.  
  
The  _Colony_  fell away for his boat on the ocean and the depths beneath it. The sea was silent and cold here, painless.  
  
He floated for a moment and reached again, deeper. There. Strange glowing forms in the deep.  _Yes, you are my people, too. I see you_.  
  
Reaching.  
  
The sound of gunfire touched his ears, but it was distant. He ignored it.  
  
It was akin to putting his finger inside a power outlet - he knew it was a bad idea, he knew it was going to hurt, but he reached inside and grabbed that live wire anyway.  
  
He reached into that alien intelligence and he made it let him go.  
  
Metal hands released his arms and he opened his eyes. He had to bite back a moan as the light stabbed him in the brain, but other than that, he felt triumphant. Both Johns were still talking urgently at the main control font, planning what to do, and hadn't yet noticed that Sam was free.  
  
He eased backward, slowly, making his way toward the console directly behind him with a hand outstretched, feeling for the edge and the datafont.  
  
His nose itched and was running, and when he touched his tongue to his upper lip, he tasted blood. Great, he'd given himself another nosebleed. Well, that wasn't going to matter in ten more minutes if he didn't stop this.  
  
The edge of the console was there and he made his move, slipping his hand into the water, just as John turned.  
  
"What the hell?" John blurted, as if this was inconceivable that Sam had gotten loose.  
  
The touch of the datastream was fire on his raw nerves and his pounding head.  
  
"STOP HIM!" John yelled. The Original Centurions started as if they'd been asleep and turned around to find him. They lifted the sidearms in their opposite hands. "Stop Sam!"  
  
Sam knew what was about to happen. He knew he had time for only one thing - he could move, or he could send the command. He could save his people, or he could save himself.  
  
He sent the command.  
  
 **SLEEP**.  
  
All around the  _Colony_ , the Centurions stopped. Only the new versions were affected, if they still were inhibited, and unable to choose for themselves, they were subject to the master wireless commands on the  _Colony_. Something Sam had done himself, because he remembered his Centurion turning on him and putting a sword in his chest.  
  
These two before him were not affected by the command, and aimed their guns at him. They looked so much like the ones on Earth he'd tried to help, and these were the same as those he'd negotiated with at Kobol to withdraw from their war in the Colonies.  
  
Behind John, Sam saw a blond head appear around the corner of the archway. Kara. Was it Kara? No, it couldn't possibly be Kara. Kara was in her Viper out there in space, fighting, not in here looking for him, as much as he might want that. He was projecting her in this moment.  
  
But he took some comfort in the sight of her anyway, even as her eyes went wide.  
  
The guns fired.  
  
  



	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the fic and the revelations in this chapter. It's almost over!

* * *

  
  
Kara felt the inexorable tick of a clock counting down. It was like those early days of the war when that thirty-second minute passed and the thirty-third was on its way,  _again_. Her chest grew tighter until she could barely breathe. She knew it didn't make any sense - there was no reason to fear that she was running out of time.  
  
But she was, and she knew it.  
  
"Hurry!" she snapped to Ellen, who was too cautious, too slow. Ellen  _said_  she wanted to hurry but then she lingered.  
  
"We're almost there," Ellen told her, which at least explained why she had slowed.  
  
Kara snapped in another clip, ducked around the corner, and fired. Centurions fired back, but Kara's team had the numbers, and Kara was in a killing mood. She took down four herself.  
  
There. The big archway that had to be it, guarded by another group of both new and old style Centurions. The old style fell more easily, it turned out, and Kara knew from her mother that if you blinded their visual sensors, getting them in the power pack in the chest was easy with a big enough caliber gun.  
  
At her side, the other allied Centurions, Simon, and D'Anna laid down cover fire for Kara to rush the edge of the archway. She took a deep breath and peeked, to see the status.  
  
It was surprisingly empty, but what drew her horrified attention was Sam, backed against one of the consoles by two old Centurions and he had one hand behind him. Cavil was yelling something, and the Centurions had sidearms pointed right at Sam from near point-blank range.  
  
"NO!" The scream was torn out of Kara's throat and she squeezed off a frantic round, knowing she was too late.  
  
The Centurions fired.  
  
She hit one, sending its bullet into the console behind Sam, but the other struck. Sam slammed backward, eyes flaring, as the gunfire echoed in the small room. There was already blood beneath his nose, smeared from a nosebleed, and more blood on his neck from a head wound.  
  
As the other enemies inside the room turned to look, she took a stance and started picking them off, cold rage making her hands steady. "You frakkers, you frakkers--" She fired at her enemies until her clip emptied then she dropped the empty gun to the floor and rushed inside.  
  
D'Anna saw, too, and her gun took out those Kara didn't. "Sam!"  
  
"Frak!" Kara threw herself down beside him, where he was awkwardly folded on the floor, slumped against the console. He listed to the side, and she threw an arm around to catch him. "Sam, no!"  
  
She eased him down flat. His eyes were such a stunning, brilliant blue she stared, frozen for a heartbeat. "Sam?" she whispered. Then she blinked and looked for the wound -- there was blood all over the black flightsuit on his chest, hiding at first where the actual wound was.  
  
"We'll get you to Cottle, it'll be okay," she told him, putting her hand over the wound, hard, trying to seal it with her hand, while she looked around frantically for a medical kit in this cold and sterile place. But Cylons didn't need medical kits, did they? Because before recently, they could just download into new bodies.  
  
"... No..." He put his hand over hers, trying to tug her hands away. "Fate."  
  
"No!" She shook her head, attention drawn back to his face as she kept her hands tight on the wound. "Not fate. Don't you die on me."  
  
"Sam!" Ellen was there suddenly, kneeling across from Kara on Sam's other side. "I can fix the resurrection--"  
  
"No. No more," he whispered and his eyes went back to Kara. How could his eyes be this blue? "You. Take them home."  
  
Kara shook her head, not understanding, not caring when he was bleeding out under her hands. "Sam."  
  
"Home," he insisted. "You know … inside." His eyes closed and he shuddered with pain, opening his eyes to look at her again. "Iris… Tell … "  
  
"Sam, shut up," Kara ordered him. "Hold on. We'll get you to Cottle."  
  
Simon crowded in next to her, and thank the gods, he had some kind of medical kit that he opened up on the deck, pulling out supplies.  
  
But Sam didn't listen or seem to notice anything else, intent on pushing the words through his lips with dwindling breath. His skin was turning translucent, as the blood welled between her fingers. "… love Thea but you… always… my..."  
  
"Oh gods, Sam, don't do this," she pleaded in a whisper.  
  
His gaze slipped past her, and she whipped her head around to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing there. He was focused on something only he could see. She looked back at his face, as strangely it shone with a golden bright light as if there was a high spotlight on him or he was aglow from within. Then his eyes closed and his fingers went limp.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
Simon grabbed for Sam's wrist to check his pulse. "I can give him time to get to Cottle for surgery. But he needs a Heavy Raider and across to  _Galactica_. Now."  
  
Kara looked around, feeling lost. She had no idea what to do or how to do it. He was dying, he would die, he'd been shot in the chest…  
  
"You," Ellen addressed one of the Centurions lingering in the doorway. "Can you carry him? Simon, you go with them."  
  
Simon worked efficiently, bandaging tightly, and inserting an i.v. for fluids.  
  
Kara watched, holding Sam's right hand in hers, as his breathing grew labored, hitching with pain and blood.  _Oh gods, don't take him from me, from us_.  
  
The Centurion approached with that springy gait that made her blood chill and she nearly shot it in reflex. It said nothing but it bent and scooped Sam up in a whirr of its machinery, but its spidery fingers cradled him easily and gently.  
  
"Well, frak me," Kara whispered, amazed.   
  
"Go," Ellen ordered. D'Anna and Simon followed, along with a six-pack of other Centurions. It should have been frightening to see Sam disappear among all those Cylons, but all Kara could think was maybe he'd have a chance.  
  
Ellen went to the central datafont and slipped her hand in. "Ah, clever boy. Always a backup plan," she murmured.  
  
"Backup plan?" Kara asked, having to clear her throat to find her voice.  
  
"He set the self-destruct." She glanced at Kara and smiled. "Two minutes to spare. If that's not evidence of God, I don't know what is."  
  
She pulled her hand out of the font and faced Kara. "Now your turn, Kara."  
  
"What? Me? What are you talking about?"  
  
"He said you know the way."  
  
"I don't know what he was talking about," Kara protested. "He was delirious."  
  
Ellen regarded her for a moment and then shook her head. "I don't think so. He knew exactly what he was saying, and spending all of his last breaths to tell you. You know the way, Kara."  
  
"I… don't."  
  
"Are you only this flesh standing here on this deck?" Ellen demanded. "You're not. I can see that, Kara. I've seen the space between life and death, and I know you have, too. I know you're special." She came nearer and her hands touched Kara's face to cup it between her palms. "He drew your picture on our journey to the Colonies. He knew what you looked like before you were born," she murmured. "This is not all that you are, Kara. I know it, I believe it. You just need to believe it, too. Sam's shown you the path, but you have to walk it."  
  
Her words seemed so familiar to Kara. Like her mother's voice but different, like that dream!Leoben's. Like Sam's. Like words she heard in her own voice.  
  
The words called to her, as a new feeling grew inside her heart. A tugging, like someone calling her name, or a distant melody she remembered from childhood.  
  
Kara's head lifted, hearing the music. And she held out her blood-stained hand, hovering over the liquid in the control interface.  
  
"Can I do this? Isn't this for Cylons?" she asked Ellen.  
  
"It's for everyone, my dear. It always has been," Ellen told her. "Our dream was never for Cylons. It was for  _people_."  
  
Kara slipped her hand into the water and pressed her hand down on the interface like she'd seen the Cylons do. There was a tingle, and then her vision opened up. A display formed in midair before her eyes, and the controls of the Colony opened up for her.  
  
It was all irrelevant, not what she needed. She searched, wandered, listening to that music, and roused the jump engines.  
  
 _There_. They had to go there.  
  
The jump field expanded and expanded, engulfing the  _Galactica_  and the small friendly basestar as well. Everyone was going home.  
  
She could feel the distance between  _here_  and  _there_ , and it seemed easy to bring them together.  
  
Jump.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sharon knew when the fight was won. Suddenly most of the Cylon ships stopped. Their engines died, their sensors went dark, and they started to drift. The only ones left were the Heavy Raiders with pilots, who continued the fight.  
  
Natalie's voice came over comms, sure and strong, "To all Cylon, if you do not surrender, you will be destroyed. There is no resurrection, there is no second chance. You make your choice now: join us or you will die for the last time."  
  
Some fought, but not all. Some tried to turn tail and flee. Sharon watched those who refused surrender disappear into nothingness and felt sorrow, but not too much. They were making their own choices. They were foolish choices, but at least Cylons were making their own.  
  
But then, the  _Colony's_  energy signature lit up like a sun, seconds before a jump field washed through her, dazzlingly bright.  
  
When she blinked the dazzle away, they were somewhere new.  
  
" _What the hell-- where are we? What happened_?" the pilots all blurted in confusion. Sharon confirmed hastily that  _Galactica_  was still there and it was. It had been swept up in the powerful jump field as well.  
  
Then Duck's familiar voice speaking for everyone, " _Oh gods. Look, people. That planet_."  
  
Sharon turned her ship's orientation to find the planetary mass.  
  
Bright blue seas, green and brown land, white clouds… a perfect marble floating in the black.  
  
Kara's voice then floated over comms, though Sharon had lost track of her ages ago. Her voice seemed a little strange, ethereal, but certain.  
  
" _Everyone. We've come home. We've finally found it. This is our new home_."  
  


* * *

  
  
Kara was just as glad to leave Ellen and D'Anna in charge of the  _Colony_. There was a lot there to deal with, including pockets of resistance from Ones and Fives who didn't want to surrender, but it wasn't her problem.  
  
Ellen had a couple of friendly Centurions help Kara find her way back to her ship. Out in space, she could breathe. It was so gratifying to see that beautiful world there, gleaming not far away. It was like the Earth-That-Was, but this one, she knew, was the true one. They would settle there; they'd found their way.  
  
They'd won.  
  
Now all that remained was to find the price they'd paid for this victory.  
  
She returned to the  _Galactica_ , to find Cerberus perched on the deck. It had a wide space cleared away from around it, and its agitation was plain in the way it trembled against the deck and the sensor pinned her with recognition. She couldn't resist going to it as soon as she was clear of her Viper. "Hey, hey, I know," she murmured.  
  
It let out an audible whine, heart-breaking in its desolation. She wondered if it was blaming itself for not coming to get her sooner to go rescue Sam, because she sure was blaming herself for not moving a little faster. Only a few seconds ... only a few  _seconds_  ... and he wouldn't have been shot. Cerberus whined again, sad and anxious. She should have felt stupid patting the head of a deadly Raider, trying to comfort it, but she needed the reassurance, herself. "Me, too. I'm going to see if he's okay. Hold on and be patient."  
  
She felt Cerberus' gaze on her all the way to the door, and thought it wasn't going to look away until Sam came back through that door with her.  
  
On her way, she found curiosity and a sort of wary hope; she felt confident that the world was inhabitable, but of course the ship had fallen for the trick before, so no one was celebrating quite yet. And they had good cause to be wary, too, as bad things were happening, not only Sam's injury, as as she found out when she reached sickbay.  
  
Helo was waiting there, looking pale and shattered. Kara lost a step, thinking there was only one reason he'd be waiting there for her, looking awful.  
  
"Is he… is he gone?" she asked in a faint voice. "He didn't make it?"  
  
But Helo looked confused. "Who? I'm here for Hera," he explained haltingly. "She… collapsed. Unconscious. No reason for it, Buzzer was watching her and said it was right before the jump and I don't know, maybe something happened... Sharon's … on her way. I think." His eyes drifted to the hatch, hoping his wife hurried back from her ship, then back to Kara.  
  
Kara felt cold - that had either been when Sam had taken all the Cylons off line, or when he'd gotten shot. It had to be. And since she'd long since stopped believing in coincidence...  
  
"Stay here, Karl. Sharon should be coming in soon, the battle's over. I have to check something." She pushed him gently to one of the waiting chairs and went to the staff rushing around to demand an answer about Sam.  
  
The curt answer came back, "Surgery with Doc Cottle."  
  
Surgery. That meant he wasn't dead. Thank the gods.  
  
The hatch opened and some marines and Tory hurried in, ahead of two people carrying a stretcher. "The president! The president needs help!"  
  
Kara pressed back into the bulkhead, out of the way, watching the activity swirl through the triage area.  
  
The price they were paying for this new planet suddenly seemed too high.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The orderly brought Kara to Sam's bed in ICU, where Cottle was waiting.   
  
It was bad enough seeing the swathes of bandages around his torso and head, the wires and monitors connected to his body, but far worse, was to see the ventilator tube taped to his mouth, and the steady artificial breathing of the machine next to him. None of it looked... real. "How's he doing?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know.  
  
Cottle shook his head. "There's swelling in his brain from a concussion, his lung was shredded by the bullet and at some point in getting here, a shard of bone pierced his pulmonary artery. He fell into shock when he nearly bled out, and he's gone into v-fib twice."  
  
"What-- what does that mean?" Kara could barely breathe. She knew what it meant, but she wanted it to mean something else.  
  
"It means... you need to say goodbye," Cottle answered bluntly.  
  
Kara shook her head, unable to deal with this again. "But, no. You can fix him, you can bring him back," she insisted.  
  
Cottle shook his head once. "No further life-saving measures will be taken."  
  
"Why? Who decided that?" Kara demanded, suddenly furious.  
  
"I did," a familiar voice said.  
  
Kara whirled, finding Thea just inside the drapes, cradling the baby. She looked exhausted, her pale face even paler with dark smudges under her eyes. "You have no right to decide that!" Kara flared.  
  
Thea didn't return her temper, letting it slid off her in her weariness. "Kara, we have to let him go," Thea murmured. "We can't hold him here only for ourselves. This isn't his destiny."  
  
Kara remembered his desperate words and pushed them away. "Destiny?" Kara sneered. "I followed my destiny and I'm still here. He can stay, too."  
  
Thea returned her glare calmly and passed her to go to the bedside. "We have to give him the choice. He wouldn't want this," she whispered. "We can't force him to stay for us." Thea bent over him and held Iris to his cheek and beneath his slack fingers. Kara felt her eyes burn at the sight - this time not for herself, the pain was for tiny Iris, who would never know her father.  
  
"I have always loved you," Thea whispered to him and kissed his forehead. "But I knew you'd never stay. Go in peace, Sam. I'll teach Iris about you so she'll know you, I promise."   
  
She moved back, sitting down in the hard plastic chair to watch. In her silence, Kara could pretend she wasn't there.  
  
Kara took his hand in hers. "Sam, we're here," she whispered. "We brought them here. You have to see it, it's a beautiful new planet. There's this huge ocean and a temperate sea just perfect for your boat. And your Raider buddy is in the hangar, and if it could be in here, it would be. It's waiting for you to come back." Her voice faltered, knowing that wasn't going to happen. She lifted his hand to her lips, remembering when he'd done the same for her all that eternity ago on Caprica.  
  
"You brought us home." She pulled in a breath and swallowed. "And I have to let you go to find yours. I know that. Goodbye, Sam." She bent down to kiss his cheek and murmured in his ear, "I love you."  
  
Then, as if he'd been waiting only to hear that, the beeps of the heart monitor sped up, skipped irregularly, and then abruptly went to a single tone. The ventilator continued, mechanicallly forcing air, so it was hard to see anything had changed.  
  
Doctor Cottle's hand squeezed her shoulder, but he didn't move toward the bed. "He's gone," he confirmed and reached over to switch off the ventilator. The sudden silence was appalling and still, as if the air had turned to ice.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sam looked beyond Kara as the light turned golden and the Opera House formed around him, misty and insubstantial.  
  
The light brightened until he couldn't see Kara anymore. It wasn't Kara's hand in his either, but smaller and yet stronger -- he looked into the brilliance and it was Hera, pulling him.  
   
He stood up, his large hand engulfing her tiny one, yet she the strongest by far.  
  
They were in the Opera House on the stage. He could see the other Four, quiescent and still. He saw their faces, but they didn't react to him, because these figures were only part of them. This was the part of each of them that had been torn away and held in the space between life and death, awaiting each turn of the wheel whether they would find a way to be whole again.  
   
He looked down at himself, to see he was wearing the white robe. His feet were bare, and the cowl was back on his shoulders.  
  
"Come," Hera tugged on him. "It's this way."  
   
He left the white drape where he was standing and followed her across the empty stage. When he approached the door, others were there -- Six, Leoben, Daniel… -- all gathered there waiting for him. He could see beyond the faces they wore, to their true selves gleaming within - ancient, proud. He knew them. He knew them all suddenly, the knowledge pouring in on him like the light itself.  
  
"Welcome home, brother," Leoben - Hermes - greeted him with a nod of his head.  
  
The Six - Artemis - still had cold eyes, looking on him. "You have returned, Poseidon."  
  
He paused. Poseidon. He glanced down at Hera and then back to his friends, the Four rebels, and he knew them, too: Ares, Demeter, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite. Their names and yet not their names; they were names from a time so long ago they had become legend and myth.  
  
"It is time," Artemis declared. "You five rebelled. You five sought to help the mortals cheat death, but that cannot and will not be permitted. Now you must accept our brother again, and open the door so that all souls can travel to Elysium to their final reward."  
  
He took a step forward to do that, and then stopped. "All of them?" he asked, glancing to Hera for confirmation. "Our created children have souls. I will not open the door unless they are welcome as well."  
  
"The Creator agreed," Hera answered. "Made life is life, and those who live can cross over. The war is over. You have been punished enough for your rebellion, and you made the sacrifice. Open the door, and come home."  
  
He put his hand around the brass knob. It turned easily, and he pushed the door. Golden light streamed out, and he saw a haze with tall trees, flowers, and blue water beyond.  
  
It was beautiful and it called to him, tugging at his soul with the desire to go there.  _Home_. There were voices singing, distant music of welcome.  
   
Sam heard a soft breath of amazement behind him and turned to see Laura Roslin climbing the last steps from the audience up to the stage. She looked around with visible awe at the shining figures on stage, and her gaze settling on Hera. "I... I am so sorry," she murmured.  
  
Hera smiled. "It was as it should be, Laura. You protected your people and you led them to their new home."  
  
Laura glanced back over her shoulder, seeing something other than the audience of the Opera House, then faced forward. She walked toward the open doorway with a peaceful smile on her face.  
  
"I see them," she whispered. "My family. My sisters." Her smile wobbled a bit and her eyes filled with tears. "Even Billy. They're already there."  
  
"The instant the way opened they entered," Hera explained. "They've now moved on, and so must you."  
  
Laura nodded, blinking back the tears and stopped in front of Sam, looking into his face. He had no idea what she was seeing, but he returned her look calmly. "I understand now. Thank you," she said at last. "With all my heart, I thank you for opening the path to Elysium." She held out her hand and he clasped it in his.  
  
"And I thank you, Laura," he told her. "You brought the humans to safety. You saved them."  
  
She nodded a little and glanced behind him to the door. "Would you-- would you take me there?" she asked hesitantly. "I'm not afraid, but ... I wouldn't mind company."  
  
"Of course. I'd be honored. This way." Still holding her hand, he brought her the last little way, past the other lords, toward the open door.  
  
Her expression was lit with joy and shone as if the sun was on it. She wasn't seeing the Opera House, if she ever had.  
  
He blinked and shifted so he could see her projection, and found himself on the deck of a large motorboat, with the blue sky above and water all around. They were heading across a wide, deep river and approaching a green shore, lined with people waiting.  
  
The boat stopped and a ramp lowered, down to the sand. Sam helped her step up onto the ramp and then, when he tried to let go, she held on and turned to smile at him. "Give Bill my love. I'll see him soon."  
  
"You will."  
  
"Good. And until you join us, be happy, Sam," she wished him. "You deserve it."  
  
"And you deserve your rest, Laura."  
  
She pressed his hand and let go, facing the shore. She walked down the short ramp, soon surrounded by loved ones as the light brightened until he couldn't see her anymore without crossing the threshold himself.  
  
With a contented sigh, he turned to face the others. "I suppose it's time for me, too."  
  
He almost went through but Hera tugged on his hand. "Sam."  
   
He knelt down. "Hera?"  
   
She cocked her head and looked at him with those infinite dark eyes. "Do you want to go back?"  
   
He swallowed and touched his chest. He didn't feel the wound, but he knew his body must have died to get him here. "I don't think my wants have much to do with it, do they?"  
  
"You can choose. You can go across," she waved toward the shore, where Laura's people had all vanished. Now he saw his own -- a gathering of those he remembered throughout all of his mortal lives.  
  
"The mountain you see is our home," Hera told him, pointing to a shining mountain in the distance. A shaft of sunlight illuminated the peak, connecting it with the heavens. He knew none of it was really there. His mind was still mortal and still thinking in metaphors, but it didn't matter; the sight filled him with a piercing pain of sheer longing.  
  
"You can cross to the other side and go home," Hera said. "All that was taken from you will be restored. You'll be whole again."  
  
"But?"  
  
"Once we cross, the door closes behind us. We leave mortals to their own choices and we wait for them to join us."  
  
That seemed fair. No more interference in mortality, for good or ill alike.  
  
"And my other choice?" Sam asked. "You said I had one."  
  
"Or," Hermes stepped toward him, "you can go back. You will be stripped of your powers once more -- "  
  
"--more thoroughly," Artemis corrected.  
  
Hermes glanced her way, impatiently, and finished, "--And you will live out your days mortal."  
  
Sam narrowed his eyes in awareness of something that hadn't made sense before, but suddenly did. "You. You pretended you were me."  
  
Hermes was unrepentant. "Until she saw through it. But Kara had to listen and ready herself to become greater. Just as you did." His expression turned wistful. "And I have loved her, too."  
  
Hera smiled. "Aurora. She became whole to bring them to their new home. You'll have to wait until she lives out her mortal life."  
  
"She fell for you," Artemis told him, until the form of Baltar patted her soothingly.  
  
"For love. And there is nothing stronger than that, as our missing sister would tell us," he reminded her. "Wasn't it love that began all this in the first place? Our brothers and sisters loved the ones they made too much?"  
  
She shot a glare at him and then let out a sigh. "I've already agreed," she said.  
  
Sam looked at them and the brilliant beacon on the mountain and felt a strange dizziness. He knew what they were saying, he understood it, and it felt right and yet--- He shook his head in confusion. "Aurora told me I wasn't a god."  
  
"We're not gods," Artemis said, disdainful. "Perhaps lesser creatures believe so, but we know what we are. You were made mortal in punishment, and only repentance and understanding would bring you back here to be whole again. Aurora helped you."  
  
"If you go through the door, you'll be restored," Hera promised. "All that was taken from you, you'll be whole and you'll understand. If you go back to mortality, you'll not know when or how it will end, and you'll live a mortal life and suffer another mortal death. But in the end, you'll still come home, I promise."  
  
Kara was waiting for Sam on Earth, and so was Aurora, because they were one and the same: one a mortal reflection of the other. He'd always loved her, with the deep dark sea's longing for the sun. And somehow through his millennia of rebellion and punishment, she'd come to love him as well. She had dared the censure of the others to help him, and their love had finally reunited their broken kin and stopped the unceasing and uncaring wheel of fate.  
  
He had to smile, shaking his head, because it was no choice at all. "You know which one I want."  
  
"I do," Hera answered. "I'll be there, too. Not that you'll know that, of course, but the three of us will live our lives with those who love us and we'll usher in a new age for our children."  
  
It should've been odd hearing that from what looked like the body of a child, but there was nothing child-like in her. She was Hera, who had sought a new way to bring the cycles to an end by bringing human and Cylon, natural and artificial, together through creation of one who was both. And something which had been impossible in ages past would lead the way to the future.  
  
He returned to his Opera House projection and to the place where his immortal self had been imprisoned all these years. But this time, it wasn't stolen from him. This time, he lifted his face to the light of the universe and stepped free of his own will.  
  


* * *

  
tbc...  
  
  



	22. Chapter 22

  
  
Thea clutched Iris to her, crying, but Kara continued to hold Sam's hand, staring into his face. After all this, after all he'd done, all they'd been through, all they'd learned... this was the end? The injustice of it burned even though she knew he didn't want to come back. He'd been looking for a way to die for  _months_ , believing with unshakable faith that he had to.  
  
"I hope you got what you wanted," she murmured in a broken whisper.  
  
-  _beep_  -  
  
The heart monitor's sound went through Kara like a shot. She thought she was imagining it and lifted her eyes to meet Thea's on the other side of the bed. Thea's face held the same surprise.  
  
-  _beep_  -  
  
"Sam?" Kara gasped.  
  
"Doctor Cottle? Doctor!" Thea called, frantic. "Doctor, come back!"  
  
Kara watched in amazement as the heart rate increased and strengthened, and Sam's lips parted to draw breath around the ventilator tube.  
  
Cottle hustled back to the bedside. "Might have known a Cylon would refuse to stay dead," he grumbled.  
  
Thea chuckled unsteadily.  
  
"He's going to be okay," Kara said.  
  
"He's alive," Cottle corrected. "Which is more than he was a minute ago. You all, get out. I need to find out what's going on." Then he bellowed, "Ishay!"  
  
Shoved out in the waiting area again, Kara's eyes met Thea's and for the first time, Kara wondered what they were going to do about this as soon as he was well again. She had no doubt that he would be, not now. He'd been sent back; she felt that truth in her bones somehow.  
  
Thea spoke first, speaking softly, "I love him, I've loved him from the moment his Raider pulled him onto my ship and I realized he was my fate. And we'll always have our daughter and the times we were together. But--" she paused. Kara would ordinarily said something to hurry her up or brashly rushed to fill the silence, but now she waited.  
  
"He never took off your dogtag," she continued. "Sometimes I wanted to take it from him so badly, but I couldn't do that to him. I couldn't force him to give you up, even when you were ... gone."  
  
"Thea," Kara started, uncertain what to say. Thea was hurting and Kara felt sorry for her. "He does love you. Don't think he doesn't, because he does."  
  
"I know," Thea sighed and kissed the baby's head. "But not the same way. And he remembers creating the Sixes now. I look at him and I know he made me; he looks at me and sees the child he made. The truth changed us."  
  
"I imagine so." Kara's lips twitched, thinking of how awkward that would be.  
  
Thea shook her head. "But that doesn't matter, really. We could probably get past that with time, but … it's plain to me you two are.... connected in some way. I know that, and I'll have to live with that. Just as you'll have to live with the knowledge that I have his child, and so we'll never be fully apart either." She smiled a little. "Can you live with that?'  
  
"I don't have much choice, do I?" Kara asked wryly. "I'll try not to frak it up too much."  
  
"Just make him happy, that's all I want. I think a part of him has been desperately unhappy for a very long time," Thea murmured.  
  
"This new world is a new start for us all," Kara said and reached out to smooth Iris' soft hair. It was, she realized, the first time she'd touched the baby and when the baby smiled at her, toothlessly grinning in pure joy, Kara knew it was going to be okay.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
He felt like he was falling, and there was darkness.  
  
And pain. Like a rock on his chest, so he couldn't breathe. His eyelids felt like stones, too, and it was so hard to open them. He tried, but couldn't do it. He could hear the beeping of various machines, and the distant sound of voices until they faded away into the dark again.  
  
He stirred again and this time, opening his eyes was easier. At first he didn't see anything though, just blank grey.  
  
"Sam? Sam!" he heard Kara's voice and he tried to turn his head to see her, but he had something on his face keeping him still. "You're awake. Someone call Thea," she called over her shoulder and bent closer to him.  
  
Her eyes were rimmed in red and shadowed with exhaustion. There was a smudge of dried blood on the side of her face. He realized she was holding his hand. "You moron, I thought I'd lost you," she whispered.  
  
He wanted to talk, but it was too much effort to do anything but look at her beautiful face. The sight went with him back down into sleep.  
  
Once he woke up because the drugs were wearing off, and he made an ill-advised attempt to move a little. The movement stabbed him in the chest and he whimpered in pain.  
  
"Sam! Doctor Cottle!" Kara called out.  
  
The doc came and injected something in his iv line, standing over Sam with a worried expression. "Keep hanging in there, Anders. You were shot in the chest, and you're lucky to be alive. Try to breathe as deep as you can, or you'll get pneumonia."  
  
But he did. He had a day of feeling stronger, even though the morpha was only enough to take the edge off the pain in his chest. Then his temperature spiked suddenly and a bout of coughing felt like he was being pulled apart. He later found out that a week passed while he was lost in a feverish nightmare of drowning. He woke woozily a few times, aware enough to realize there was a tube in his throat and another in his chest, but never quite awake enough to want them taken out, before he fell back into hell.  
  
Sometimes he awoke and Kara was there, sometimes Thea was there. But always it was one of them. Once Thea brought Iris and the scent of her in his nose stirred him, and Thea put her down to sleep between his body and his arm, and he fell asleep too, more peaceful.  
  
Recovery was slow, even after the tubes were taken out and he could breathe on his own. He was painfully weak at first, drifting off after a few minutes awake. Kara sat with him, and when she was on duty, Thea was there, with Iris. They seemed friendly to his dazed and drugged brain whenever they were both there. He hoped it wasn't for his benefit, that they had made their own peace.  
  
When Cottle let him have other visitors, Galen and Saul and Tory sat with him a little while, though Tory only came once and didn't return. Ellen told him stories about Earth and their lives before John had ruined it all. Her words filled in the gaps in his memories, but he soon realized that he was the only one who remembered Kobol.  
  
Leoben was a welcome presence who didn't mind being quiet or demand Sam respond to the things he said. Barolay came to give him ship gossip or talk about people on Caprica they'd both known, before the attacks, keeping his mind diverted even when he couldn't speak.  
  
Sharon - Boomer - came and held his hand, smiling. "Natalie thought it would be too much for us all to come, so I'm here for all of them."  
  
Amused by the thought of the entire baseship trooping through his recovery room, he smiled and pressed her hand, but she shook her head when he would've said something. "You don't need to say anything. But I wanted to tell you to get better soon; we need you."  
  
He frowned- that sounded ominous, a feeling that grew when she glanced at the door to make sure it was empty and bent closer. "Ellen's kind of taken over at the  _Colony_  but I don't think D'Anna or Natalie like it very much, when she tells them what to do. She's also," Sharon wrinkled her nose, "really condescending about it."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"I'm sure they can work it out," Sharon reassured him, "But just so you know there's plenty to do when you're out of here. But it's going well generally. People are happy we've found a world to settle. Did they tell you there are already humans here? They're pretty scattered but genetically indistinguishable. Baltar is claiming we'll be all one species in a few generations. And that this was where we were meant to be all along."  
  
"Sounds nice."  
  
"You'll see it." Her eyes went distant and then uncertain, flicking a glance at him and then away as if she had somethign else to say.  
  
"Sharon?"  
  
"I - I wanted to know what you thought about -- me and Galen. Is it too... weird? I mean - he doesn't remember, not like you do -- would you find it terrible? Ellen doesn't approve I think."  
  
He tightened his grip. "Sharon - it's your choice. You're a ... person. Adult. You... choose. Yourself."  
  
Speaking so much hurt everything in his chest, but it was worth it when she smiled brilliantly and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."  
  
After Sharon, Helo came and talked of how the Humans and Cylons were trying to be friends, and Sam only realized that he had something he wanted to ask Helo, when the other man was leaving. "Helo," he called, voice rusty and he held back a cough.  
  
Helo came back to the bed. "Yeah?"  
  
"Hera?" he asked, body tight with a reflexive anxiety. Helo hadn't mentioned Hera at all, and he was a little afraid of what that might mean.  
  
But Helo smiled. "She's fine. Better than fine, really. We had a scary moment when she collapsed for no reason, but when she woke up, she's been our little girl again." He frowned at some expression on Sam's face. "What? You know what happened, don't you?"  
  
He had a flash of the Opera House and Hera's little face and depthless dark eyes.  
  
"She was an oracle, too," Sam told him. "When the gods went home, she and I -- we had a choice -- to go with them or stay, but lose our sight." He knew without doubt that his future visions were over. But he still had memories of the past, and that was more than enough. He remembered a door and light streaming out, and he smiled. "We're free. Free to make our own choices, and our own destiny. We're on our own."  
  
"That's... scary," Helo murmured.  
  
"A little," he agreed. "But hopeful too, don't you think?"  
  
After some thought, Helo nodded. "It doesn't have to happen again."  
  
"No. It doesn't. It won't. We won't let it." There was so much death in his memories... so many ends to so many worlds... "So say we all," he whispered.  
  
"Hey, Karl," Kara greeted him, coming through the drape. Her eyes flicked from one to another, noticing the heavier atmosphere. She smiled at Sam and with resolute cheer said, "I thought I heard your voice. Bout time you woke up."  
  
Helo took his leave and Sam turned his head to watch Kara. "Hey."  
  
"You still lazing about in bed?" she teased.  
  
"Actually I was thinking about standing," he said. "If you'd help."  
  
She bit her lip in uncertainty and glanced toward the curtains as if a herd of wild dogs was waiting on the other side. "I think that's a bad idea."  
  
"C'mon," he coaxed. "I've been in this bed forever. And I'm not getting stronger just sitting here."  
  
She shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. Just the movement of the bed shot stripes of pain out from his chest, and though he bit his lip and tried not to show how much it hurt, Kara saw and her face closed up in determination. "No, Sam. When the doc gives the okay, not before. You're still healing."  
  
He nodded, feigning reluctance, but knew she was right. "God, this is a boring as frak infirmary," he muttered.  
  
"I know. And I would love to liven it up," she leaned down close and grinned at him flirtatiously, "but if you can't even stand up, I don't think you're ready."  
  
He pouted. "Not even a kiss?"  
  
"I think I can do that. If you promise not to get too excited."  
  
He couldn't possibly get  _that_  excited when she barely pressed her lips to his. When he lifted a hand to try to pull her down closer, it was the hand with the pulse monitor on his finger and the i.v. line into his arm, and the cords defeated him. "Frak it to hell," he muttered.  
  
She chuckled and kissed him again. "Think of it as a promise for when you're better."  
  


* * *

  
  
It seemed slow, but he did get better. Over both Kara and Thea's objections, Sam insisted on going down to the surface of this new world. He'd heard they'd started calling it Earth, and when he'd demanded Ellen stop it, she'd just shrugged and said, "It's still their hope for a new home. They call ours Cylon Earth, or Old Earth. This is the Earth they were promised."  
  
So he'd wanted to visit and see what all the pain had finally bought.  
  
"Come on. If you're gonna be stupid, the view is this way." Kara took his hand and helped him to his feet, shoving a shoulder under his arm when his legs trembled. She brought him to the opening hatch of the Raptor.  
  
Thea was on his other side, holding Iris, and Caprica and Baltar were following behind him. Helo and Sharon were powering down the Raptor.  
  
They walked beyond the landing area, to a steep drop to the sea. It was a perfect semi-circular harbor, clearly volcanic, a high ridge embracing sapphire water, perfect for sailing. Above, the sky was a beautiful pale blue color and the sun was warm and yellow. There was a silvery moon barely visible above grey-green trees and golden grass.  
  
He tilted his head back as a flight of Raiders careened across the sky, and one in particular looped around to buzz him joyfully.  
  
The Centurions were planning to take the  _Colony_  and go out on their own, but they wanted to speak to him first. There was going to be peace, though. That much he knew.  
  
He turned to see Kara's face glowing in the beautiful light, framed by the sky behind her. The breeze stirred the ends of her hair and smelled of the sea. And he remembered he'd seen this moment before, but only now did he understand what it truly meant.  
  
"You brought us home, baby," he whispered, and his eyes pricked with hot tears, unable to believe that at last they were here.  
  
She shook her head, and bit her lip, for a moment unable to speak. Then she corrected him, with crumpled smile, "No.  _We_  brought them home."  
  


 

* * *

  
  
epilogue to follow 

 


	23. Epilogue

 

  
**Epilogue**

 

 

Time, no longer bound to a wheel, unfurled ahead of them, as a path. The remnants of three peoples walked it, not always peacefully and not always wisely, but always forward.

On a lovely spring day the merging into one people would be complete. 

"How do I look, Dad?" Iris asked, twirling for Sam's inspection. 

He caught her hand and answered honestly, "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, little one."

"Hey! I heard that!" Kara called out from where Hera was trying to pin something on her dress.

"Stand still, Auntie Kara," Hera snapped, pulling her back into place.

"You know she can't do that," Thea teased.

Sam ignored them to frame Iris's face with his hands. "I love you," he told her. "You are a miracle and a gift, and I have treasured every moment that I've spent with you."

She blinked her eyes and bit her lip, and said with a little choked voice, "Daddy, don't make me cry -- my makeup will smear."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, just as he had when she'd been small. She flung her arms around him and they hugged tightly. "I love you, too," she whispered.

He held her just as long as he could, knowing that very soon he was going to have to give up some of this for the new man in her life. He ran a finger along the sleek curl in her golden hair and the crown of flowers. "You ready? I hear there's a red head out there who wants to marry you."

She checked her face in the mirror and nodded. "I'm ready."

Outside, the weather was perfect and the honor guard of Centurions shone in the sunlight. Some of them, Sam was amused to note, were wearing accessories - one had on what could only be a bracelet, and another had put a colored stone in its carapace. The first in the line stepped forward and presented a pink rose to Iris.

She smiled up at it, at ease with the Centurions as no one born during the exodus could be. "Thank you, very much. I'm honored that you would come back to share in my special day."

It nodded to her and stepped back into line, as Iris slipped the rose into the middle of her bouquet.

Excited by the gesture, Sam patted it on the arm as the wedding party passed. Was this Centurion a leader among them, or a spokesperson. Did they understand the import of what was happening today? He didn't know, and he wanted to talk to them and find out all that had happened since they'd gone. 

From in front as she started marching down the petal-strewn path, Kara hissed over her shoulder at him, "Let it go til tomorrow, Sam."

On Iris's other side, Thea snorted with laughter. 

Smiling ruefully at how well they both knew him, he escorted Iris to the field where the wedding was set up, with hundreds of chairs to accommodate all the guests. Jeanne performed the ceremony, then he watched Iris dance with Sammy Clellan. When Nora and Tucker joined them, Sam stood and held out a hand to Thea. She accepted with a smile and they joined the other two couples in the dance.

They hadn't planned to dance together as parents of the bride, but it felt right. This was something they'd done together; they had created this miracle who should never have been born but had come to them anyway. The moment was bittersweet and heavy with all the things they'd been to each other. Even though they'd both married others, that old bond lingered, especially on a day like today. 

"I think we did good," he said finally, smiling, with a glance at Iris giggling in Sammy's arms.

"We did." Thea nodded and her hands squeezed his. When the song ended, he kissed her cheek.

Kara waited until they had let go of each other, then took his arm. "Circle dance, come on."

In the whirl of the dance, he saw all the Cylons, each as alike as sisters and brothers, but no longer identical. Except there were two missing, and when he realized it, his heart caught and across the crowd, his eyes met Ellen's. They had done it, the Five, destroying all the John models to insure the peace. He knew it had to happen and didn't exactly mourn the necessity. Yet now, twenty years later, remembering how much Daniel would've loved this, it hit hard. 

When Sharon and Dee pulled Kara with them, he wandered away from the crowd, up the gravel path, to the bluff overlooking the sea. He could hear the music behind him and the waves below, all combining into one song.

He squinted toward the horizon, where the next island in the chain was barely visible in the haze, but the mainland was too far away to see. They'd settled on Atlantia because it was empty, geothermal energy was abundant, and the weather was pleasant, but he knew that someday the humans on the distant shores would build boats and find them. What were they going to do on that day? Would they pretend to be gods here on their Mount Olympus, as the lords of Kobol had? Would they tell stories of the past, cloaked in myth so the New Earth humans could learn from their mistakes? Would it all end in fire and death again?

It's different now, he reminded himself. But the words sounded hollow. With ill-omened names like Earth for the planet and Atlantia for their island, wasn't it a matter of time?

He worried about it only a few minutes until he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him. Kara came up to his side and nudged him with a hip. "Hey. What are you all broody about? You should be happy."

"I am happy," he protested. "I am. It's a momentous day. It made me think."

"Uh oh," Kara mocked and he made a face at her. Then she prompted more seriously, knowing he was bothered by something. "What is it?"

"Iris is the last full-blood Cylon. We really are one people now. I just..." he trailed off and looked toward the horizon. "I remember how my Earth was - it was all one people too, and it blew itself to hell. I want to believe that things will be different here. That all the pain, sacrifice and death won't have been for nothing."

She paused a moment and said, "You're the one who said the cycle was broken. That we're free to make our own destiny."

"I know, and it's true. But that doesn't mean it won't happen again. Another thousand years from now this place might be a cinder."

She sighed and shook her head at him. "Only you would worry about something that might happen in a thousand years, Sam. Did you see the crowd down there? There were only six people at Helo and Sharon's wedding, remember? And now there are three hundred here, including Centurions, and I never, ever would have thought that could happen, back on the ship." She slipped an arm around his waist, and he put an arm around her shoulders to tug her close. "We did it," she whispered. "We broke the cycle. We learned our lesson. It won't happen again, Sam. We won't let it."

"I pray that's true." He pressed a kiss into her hair and continued to watch the waves, vague memories of doing the same thing years and years ago on a different planet they had called Earth flitting through his mind. 

Kara leaned her head into his shoulder. "I like that tune. You should finish it and we can play it together."

Until she spoke he hadn't even realized he'd been humming. "I finished it," he murmured. "I just have to remember it."

She shook her head in wonder and laughed again, a little ruefully. "Every time I think I know all there is to know about you, I learn something new. At least it's never boring, being married to a man with, what, three lifetimes in his head?" she teased gently. "Tomorrow you can play me the song. But not today." She turned and grabbed his hands in hers. "Today is Iris's wedding day and she'll never forgive you if you're all gloomy. Let's go have fun."

As Kara had always done, from the day they'd met, she pulled him up from the darker currents of the deep, and up toward the light and warmth of family. In the crowd, Cylons and Humans looked the same, but those that blended both seemed to glow. Hera had taken pity on Jean's unbelievably awkward teenage son and they were dancing, while the boy's once-unthinkable father, a Four who'd named himself Will Cottle after Bill Adama and Doctor Cottle, looked on with pride. Sam's own hybrid children were running in the far field, like the hellions they were, playing a ball game with a group of other hybrids and humans.

His Cylon daughter was still dancing with his human namesake, looking drunk on happiness. Someday she'd have her own hybrid baby and the line of salt between the two peoples would wash away completely.

His fears lifted away at the sight. He'd known it was the only answer, but he'd never thought he'd live to see it. Perhaps it would unravel one day, but the future was no longer his to see. For now he could enjoy the peace of knowing he'd paid for his mistakes and he'd fulfilled his destiny.

He took Kara's hand and brought it to his lips, filled with such love and gladness that they were here together. She looked at him curiously, and he smiled at her, content. This wasn't a vision, it was real, and he wouldn't trade it for all the powers in the universe.

Words he'd spoken on the day of formal peace between the fleet and the cylons returned to him:

>   
> _Our children will build the future according to what we teach them. They are the shape of things to come. They are the first children who will live in a world defined not by what was, but by what might be._
> 
> _The days of the gods walking among us are done. The gods will no longer visit us in visions or tell us where to go. Our future is not written in the past, and we're free to make our destiny on our own and as we choose._  
> 
> _We are, all of us, mortal. Elysium waits on the other side, but until then, we must find our joys and our loves in the present. Because this life is all we have and all we know_.
> 
> _This is all that we are_.

 

 

The End.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear from you - I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!


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